Chasing Light

Imagine yourself inside an unlighted room in isolation. The surroundings appear dim and dark. You hear nothing but a deafening silence. Silence comparable to none other. Your heart beats faster. Gets magnified like a lightning roar. How you wish a light would be visible somewhere, that will lead you out.
 
This I felt and probably was also the predicament of the group. We explored one of the interesting caves in our province, the Cantabon cave. It measures eight hundred meters. According to our guides, it would take three hours to get inside and go out of the cave.

I heard several stories about the enchanting place long ago. I haven't been there. I am a stranger and "tourist" to the place where I was born and raised.

The cave's mouth was difficult for everyone to enter. I'm thankful I am lean. A little bend and step sidewards was enough for my body to squeeze in the little passage. It was dark and slippery. The first two or three hundred meters from the cave door, we had an uphill and downhill climb off the rocks. The stalactites and stalagmites was stunning, perfectly hanged like ice cream cones on the ceiling and protruding on the cave floor. We hear the dripping water from the rocks. We wade on waist high waters. Bend to the left as well as to the right. Crawling like turtles, getting wary of being hurt on the sharp rocks, covering the cave environment.

I was greatly reminded of the cloud-like and bath tub rock formations inside. The lonely bat clinging on the ceiling. I wondered where are the others?

We chased the light coming from the lamps of our guides. They were the head and tail of the group. It was them that lead us through the exciting and heart pounding journey down under.

A Welcome Suprise

I just came back from a short holiday in our province for the Lenten season. I turned darker this time. My nerves couldn't resist the tempting waters of the sea a few meters from our house. The mangroves thriving at the seafront for several years still grow abundantly.The drought brought by the El Niño never affected them. When summer turns all the greens into browns, this side of the island remains green.
 
New lamp posts. I sighted them lined on the streets of our town. Is it an indication that the hands of development have reached our rustic haven? The lamps are comparable to those we see in the cities. This would surely make the night buddies stay longer at night time, especially the children. Does the local government managed the town's coffers properly? I think so. With such projects at hand, they have spelled a difference in governance.
 
Snake for sale! I saw this man sporting a snake clinging on his arm like twigs. It measures around four to five meters long and three to four inches in diameter. He boarded the jeepney where I rode to the next town. He intends to sell the snake to a local beach owner for a good price. The driver getting wary of any untoward incident, prompted the middle-aged man to stay at roof of the jeepney. Thus, encouraging more bystanders noticing him and his friend.
 
Water, where are you? The well in our backyard has been a good source of water for years. It hasn't dried up especially on summer. But not this time. The water level shrinks on low tides and rises on high tides. Such phenomenon happens every year . It gets worse every year too. The water is not salty and tastes like our tap water. This puzzle remains a puzzle up to these days.
 
Where did this source of life go? Have it find its way to join the mother sea?