Pretty Macalang

I have a habit of walking for several miles. I'm sure some of my readers are aware as some have stopped to greet or take a picture with me during these escapades, especially my trudges in Metro Manila: Sampaloc-to-Cubao, Sampaloc-to-Rizal Park, Sampaloc-to-Makati, and Sampaloc-to-Quiapo. Though those walks were done to let off steam, I do also walk just for the sake of relaxation, sight-seeing, or searching for something that I do not know, lately along the Zambales and Pangasinan coasts, only to stop once I've tired or found a place that catches my eye. One such place is Macalang.


Though one might unknowingly pass it by when riding a vehicle, due to thick patches of brush and coconut trees that hide it from view, Macalang is hard to miss when traveling by foot, especially on a sunny and windy day. Walking by, I noticed the sound of waves gently and uniformly lapping its shoreline and my eye was immediately caught by the glittering of the sunlight across its waters.

Each place I go to, I feel exudes some personality that leaves an imprint on how I will remember it and what emotions memories of it will evoke. Macalang, to me, is a simple woman. Pretty, yes-- her smooth fine-grained beach barely spotted with any rocky imperfections. Her casual smile lights up like clouds on a bright day; she invites me to walk with her. Though not ornate, the sparkle in her eyes and graceful sandy earrings-- I see her.

To protect her under my wing and take care of her would be a pleasure. Meek, self-effacing, and docile in nature, it isn't hard to love her. And too am I showered by her forgiving love. A soft breeze gently blowing through the hairs of palm and swaying the gentle curves of her flowing ocean-blue dress, I stare and mesmerize about the gem I've found in the rough. Quietly, I sit with her for a while. And even in silence, we speak.

To stay, I would-- if only. But the Sun knows I cannot, pulling me away with it as it dips under the horizon.

Tears shed, but 'tis the cloth we are born into-- a culture that cannot accept who we truly are. Perhaps indefinitely, I can merely savor the pursuit of an unknown flower that even daydreams cannot convey and smile at the thought of finding her-- my mind replaying memories we shared. I bid her goodbye, somehow hoping to see her again one Summer day.