While I don't have the luxury of time in terms of dutifully putting my words with the regard for the power of the written art, I will, in the best of my ability "speak" at my best in the next fifteen minutes or so. Blogging is indeed an emerging art. For me, it is something that must not be taken slightly.
Anyway, after this unintended prologue.
I claim I'm from here right? Well, after a stupendous conviction full of saying "yes", I've found myself drawn to the ever famous Burnham park. Happily surrounded by my little girl and my husband, we (including nieces, sister-in-law and mother-in-law) feigned this almost "ignorance" of Baguio. We were like looking at Burnham park for the first time. . . Okay, now as you can see from the picture, we have the boats. . . and so, yes, we rode the boats. The outburst and conglomeration and jocund moving people in the park has put my limited understanding of SM and John Hay as places to be-- to shame. Burnham park seemed to be the "mecca" of Sunday park-goers.
So we had a boat ride. Sans the fact that the old fountain system has been closed or shut due to malfunction (I suppose), it was such a ride that put to my mind why the lake has special purposes of its own. For one, I saw the usual tourist groups groping in paddling -- whether they were going somewhere or not, it did not matter. What mattered was the crispy air that was still so much felt despite the reality that it was 12 noon-ish. At this point, let me remind you that Baguio is in its record coldest times. Serendipituously, as if set in perfect cosmic order, I was fortunate enough to witness, at one "frozen" moment in time, a guy who seemed to look like proposing to a girl in that boat. . . It was just picturesque (now, out of respect for the people concerned, i am not posting their picture)-- he holding her hands, she looking into her eyes. . . It so made me think about how my husband proposed to me as well. . . I have my own memories of my own days in the park-- boating even though it was signal number two. . . Well, admittedly, that was the reason why we went boating. . . sigh, i do miss my old college days. . . carefree. . . carefree and just carefree. . . stress, though it was there, seemed a non-existent word even in my own lexicon.
to be continued::::