Sunset over a bridge on a lake beach

Yesterday, I…

went to see Laguna lake for the first time since I came here. It was an abrupt decision. I was coming from Calamba when I decided to check my map and go for a little walk. It ended up not just being a “little walk”.

I got off Baybayin, walked Taft, saw a wall with the inscription: HANDOG NI FERNANDO POE JR. 1989, and then followed the street that led directly to the shore—Burgos Street. That name reminded me of Ilocos, but the look of the street reminded me of Bolinao.

It was the first time I communed with a large body of water since the pandemic started. Back in Pangasinan, after the community quarantine relaxed, I frequented the Lobong CIS, a pond perhaps the size of Freedom Park. I called it “my Walden” and it had kingfishers, and bush hens, and blue herons. It was beautiful and it provided the quiet haven that Tiktokers took away from me when they invaded my favorite road. But it just didn’t have that unfathomable element that makes large bodies of water deeply awe-inspiring.

Yesterday, I was overwhelmed by mixed emotions as I watched the sun make its descent on the West, above Metro Manila, while the tiny waves of the lake cried for it to return and Makiling, just staring at the whole brouhaha, clouds assembled over its peak like a tiny parasol.

I walked towards home by 6 and left them there.