Anyone see that sky yesterday morning? Beautiful, beautiful shade of ominous blue. No wind, just rain.
Did I mention I love the rainy season? It makes for interesting weather, the kind that heightens my senses in a very odd way (Sunny really only works for me when I’m planning a trip somewhere. I’m not so nuts about that heat). I get the same kick out of it as what I could only assume people get from rollercoaster rides (Let me note that I’ve never been on one. And if you offer to pay me big money to get on Enchanted Kingdom’s Space Shuttle of death, I would refuse peevishly. I honestly don’t see how the momentary displacement of one’s entrails could be classified as entertainment).
I know this could very well be misconstrued as self-centeredness. I, being sheltered from the elements, as opposed to people in coastal shantytowns. Or the ones who held Sulpicio Lines in such high esteem they decided to wing it despite PAGASA’s warnings.
For some obtuse reason, typhoons remind me of my childhood. A probable upshot of being raised in Pangasinan. I’m sure Ernie Baron taught us well enough to know the province as a hurdle in the Philippine severe weather obstacle course. Whenever Gading or Loleng feel the need to stretch their legs, we suffer the brunt. As a result: two-month power outages, a phenomenon influential enough to make a kid forget the logic and purpose of a TV set. For weeks on end, the household would function on antediluvian tubig poso and candlelight. In the evening I fell asleep listening to casette tapes played on my walkman. The rest of the day I spent investigating faunae washed in by the overflow (to clarify, no corpses were ever found and the water is actually clean enough to wade in).
Good times, good times. You can see how tidings of an incoming storm can induce a bout of nostalgia. Or not. In which case you can put me down as an eccentric who finds mirth in the destructive forces of nature.
