A white dog moved slowly into the still water at that beach in Palaui island the morning of our walk. The creature didn’t hesitate like most dogs do. As soon as it dipped its front paws in the water, an invisible force seemed to pull its entire body into the sea. It created tiny waves as it moved forward, creating a trail that the water immediately erased.
I was amazed at how brave this dog was, how at home and unafraid it was. It knows these waters. It is at home. For a moment, I envied him for its life, for being in such a place that was nothing short of a paradise.
This was the morning of our walk around Palaui island. The last day of the three-day yoga retreat. We just passed by the houses of locals and entered a long unoccupied beach. I and a few others trailed behind, unable to let go of the magic of these alluring waters. Most of our companions, including our yoga teacher and the guide have already entered the forest just above the shore. The dog that I’m staring at right now is one of the others following us from the camp. They were the camp’s guard dogs, but it feels like they live in the entire island.
The difficult, long commute to reach Tuguegarao, which included waiting buses, passing by the mountainous of Nueva Ecija, the arriving late at night to rent a room for just a few hours before meeting my companions has now been lost. This is one of the best places I’ve ever been, if not the best place. I breathed the cold fresh cool breeze sweeping above the northern-most sea of the Philippines, and that may have come as far as Japan. I touched the glittering brown sand with my feet, walking slowly and to greet every inch of this line I’m following, and careful as to avoid a fragile crab in eyes from its hole.
I glanced at the beach one last time as if to suck on more nourishment from the landscape then I entered the warm, wet embrace of the forest.