Thursday, August 20, 2009

Hot and Cold

(In which the wind gave me another memory.)

I have had so much hatred to all those FX drivers who have been going through the same route where no passengers get off. Yeah. I like the view in Rainforest Park but the heavy traffic in that area makes me forget all about the beautiful sceneries. It’s really good to stare at all those trees and lovely houses while you get yourself stuck in the heavy traffic due to road repairs and stuffs but if you know you are just minutes away from being late, you won’t enjoy the view.

Today, I am lucky to have a driver who deviates from the usual routine but unlucky enough to have the wrong co-passenger at the wrong time.

So the driver didn’t pass Stella Mariz but the Rosario area. However, a man made an early reminder that he will be getting off at The Medical City. It wasn’t a big deal at first and because I have this very terrible cold and a slight fever, I dozed off. I woke up from my deep slumber just in time to witness a very delightful scene – a road turned into a parking lot. And yes, you guessed it right. I didn’t come to work on time today – again. In fact, the traffic was really bad I have to walk a block to save my paycheck from further deductions.

As I got off from the vehicle, I felt the wind – it was both hot and cold. Whether the feeling was because of my feverish condition, I don’t know. However, I suddenly got the feeling that I want to go somewhere with trees. Somewhere serene. Somewhere quiet and peaceful. It was as if nature can heal me in a way that medicines can’t. And whether it was my body I desire healing for, I don’t know.

I was stuck with that feeling even hours later. What is there in nature that keeps me coming back? Is it the wind? Is it the noises from children running and laughing? Is it the birds chirping? Is it the butterflies that kiss your palms? Is it the tender hands that hold you when you walk? Is it the eyes that watch over your movement? Is it that distinct, foreign voice that shouts your name when you get too far to be held and watched over? Is it the happy memory of sitting under the shade of a tree with a good book and your lover’s head on your lap? Or is it everything?

Or maybe it is just my fever.