When The Sun Is At Its Peek
That is not a typo.
I was visiting Scout Barrio, Baguio City; my hometown and where I experienced the gift of play. Back then, we had tadpoles instead of tamagotchis, spiders instead of Mortal Kombat and houses made of sticks & pine needles; then, our version of Sims.
On special occasions, we would find an empty can of baby’s milk, puncture the bottom with many holes, fill it with pine needles, set the contents on fire and run around until dusk. No particular agendas really, but had tons of vibrant laughter and memories. A cardboard box is easily turned into a makeshift sled. With its underside waxed with candles, it easily becomes a prelude to Cool Runnings.
It was so simple then and even now, memories of my hometown is as vivid as yesterday’s. In the best way I know how, I captured the morning sun through the roots of a tree over hanging a shallow cliff; the backdrop of many afternoons spent with childhood friends and family.