Thursday, October 14, 2010

Foghorn





For June and the highlands escapades.
Immortality beckons beyond the fog.



The ascent begins at the base, near the picnic grove overlooking the famed lake. It will be a two-mile trip to the summit where thick clouds marching from the south have assembled to surround the prominent peak. The heaving dark clouds, like a dragon coiling around the hill is posed to swallow the crown on top of the mount, and we, as curious spectators is about to venture into the most outrageous drive of our lives.

Darkness shrouds the landscape as the Jimny revs for a steep climb. The narrow road twists revealing sharp bends whose deep ravine have already surrendered to the abyss. On cloudless days, the ledge reveals rolling hills and plains as far as the eyes could see. In the distance, beyond the lake, is the shimmering splendor of the sea, whose briny air beckons the marauding clouds to return to the depths.

But the path now, whose faint yellow lines is slowly fading into the fog. The silhouette of trees warn of an impending fall; the absence of specter of lights glowing from blurred lamp posts tell of yielding. Yet we must go on and never stop, lest a vehicle sharply turning on a bend might suddenly hit us from behind.



The Forks



Sliding the passenger window, wisps of clouds enter: the fog swirling gleefully to announce its supremacy . A whiff of arctic wind  chills our nostrils, while pearly beads of rain water splat on our skin. The road ahead is now veiled behind the haze but despite these trepidations, we crawl forward to continue our journey.

Halfway between the base and the summit, we parked, took a leak next to the ridge, and surveyed the hidden layers of our surroundings. Howling winds blow against our face as we stood our ground hoping for a heavenly parting. An icy chill permeates our skin knocking our bones to submission, yet we never faltered: A crown seeks to be discovered hidden above the hills.

We walked towards the final gate only to find it bolted. The wind howls and as the clouds encircle to make its final push to swallow our sanctified ledge, there is no choice but to rescind. With no place to stay and only the frosty elements to keep us company. We return to the Jimny and surrender our fate to the embracing mist.


A Repost:
Fullmetal Dreams
January 20, 2009




6 comments:

Nimmy said...

you're one heck of a writer kuya!

an icy chill permeates our skin knocking our bones to submission, yet we never faltered

this line is so funny. hehehe

Ms. Chuniverse said...

hindi ko pa nababasa.


pero magko-comment na ko.


Love your new profile pic. Kileg!


Now, babasahin ko na entry.


Hehehe!

red the mod said...

Laeuna will forever be a special place, a respite and a reminder, the brevity of the trip and the immensity of the panorama it unfolded. It is the exquisite remembrance of these things, the morning fog, the embracing mist, the comfort of inebriated acceptance, the spray of sunlight as we wind our way back its treacherous slopes, the libertine conversations, and the wisdom gained. All in a breathe, gained in a heartbeat.

Maybe its time to take that trek again. Jimny may no longer be around, but the place will always be the same. A sanctuary, and an unending memory.

red the mod said...

Oh, and digging the transparency of the new template. :)

Soltero said...

OO NGA...di nagpatalo sa likod nila Felipe & Iurico! bwahhaha...

at sa profile pic din nagcomment, kc nman mejo nosebleed ang post! ahahha :P

Désolé Boy said...

hindi ako masyado nakapagconcentrate sa entry, aaminin ko
.
.
HOTNESS NG PROFILE PIC!!!
.
.
[i believe certain places indeed hold memories. others may not see it, others simply feel them. awesome post from a master!!]