in one of those walks of long ago, i pointed out to e. the delicate drizzling of leaves and how such a sight never fails to pinch those recesses in me i thought never existed. as we contemplated such grace on a day's commencement, i then pointed to the bed of leaves unsettled by our feet's shuffling. anyone with a rake in hand would have relished disposing of those leaves, in various stages of decay and shade. i was glad no such person was in sight.

one february, as i was hurriedly going to my late afternoon class at the decrepit building, i almost failed to notice the gentle shower of yellow narra blossoms making their way to the spread of green anxiously waiting for them. as if anticipating my distracted mind, an equally gentle wind accompanied them all the way to the other side of the road. i had to pause and remind myself of those sunday lunches we used to have at our first house.

the sunday lunches were held at the backyard. nothing fancy; it wasn't even charming, what with the second-hand blue formica top table and the staple sunday lunch fare - macaroni salad and fried chicken. yes, it was nothing fancy. but the narra tree that shaded us from blistering noon rays made all the difference.

how apropos, then, that with a big bottle of water, a good pair of shoes and enough sunblock to last me the day, i found myself an oasis in the middle of the desert. i didn't know what to make of it at first but when i talked to several people on how to make my way through the as-yet indecipherable maze, i immediately felt that i was in a very good place and at a very good time. and yes, even if it was in the middle of the desert.

god, i said to myself, how i would bloom in this arid land. i would fashion the most exquisite petals and leaves, not to be adored, not to be praised, but to be a sight for sore eyes.

a line from long ago: abril ang pinakamalupit na buwan ng taon
i could only issue a smile that could warm even the heart of the loneliest man.