I plug my earphones on my way home from Manila to Cavite, refusing to hear the rumble of the city, the unhealthy chatter of fellow commuters or the angry roars of vehicles in heavy traffic. I turn up the volume to its highest and listen to lively music or interesting podcasts until I fall asleep.
I get off the bus, reluctant to go straight home. I walk the streets and remark every little establishment in our little town, especially the eateries and food stalls (‘coz I really love food). It’s just so, so nice to be home.
From my hometown, Silang, which is just a 30-minute drive to the highlands of Tagaytay, I decide to ride a jeepney and unplug the earphones that I had been wearing from Manila. I don’t want to miss the sound of the country, the silent hum of the wind, and the rustling of grass and leaves as the wind blows them.
There’s still the sound of cars and jeepneys but it’s very tolerable. They’re actually part of the music on my commute. Since the highway is not at all congested by vehicles, the drive is steady. The air is fresher, the wind cooler.
When I reach the cafe, I make sure I am seated on the patio where I get a panoramic view of green and blue. This is not only a picture. With the sound of the wind whistling from the clouds, blowing the leaves nearby and brushing the pages of my journal, it is a scene. Actually, it’s more like the clouds whispering something sweet to me, and their language is the wind–this is a comforting scene to be in.
I am here, and I feel loved by the clouds.
With this, I am able to write solemnly, clear my mind and ponder things freely. I love my earphones, but I love not having to wear them, too, especially when what you hear are soft whispers of love from nature.