26 February 2014

A Day at the Farm

It is easy to tell when happiness is real or not. I am blessed to have found it around me. And even in the fields when there is not much to see but green grass sticking up from the ground, some swaying to the whisper of the wind.

The farm has been there forever. It has been tilled by generations of my great-grandfather's people who migrated from the north to the south to settle on this land named after their hometown. Unfortunately, there isn't so much I know about him since I was only a toddler when he passed away.

From where we stood, we saw the vast horizon and there is a hut or two every half kilometer. Locals on bicycles went past us as if there is no hurry in this idyllic life. The flock of birds flew over the fields and danced in the air. I have wanted to chase them but I knew I couldn't.

We went to the still ponds to reach for some lotuses which my mom seriously wanted to bring back home. Goats fed on luscious greens which continued to grow on every rain drop that started to fall from the sky. We took a few photos of us and retired to the hut were my uncle has been sitting and watching us. He stood towering over us with his huge nose and big smile. His mestizo features reminded me of people in old photos of my ancestors. He always has this light and carefree mood and he is thoughtful and wise in his own way.

The overcast sky grew dimmer so we drove back to the old home. Right outside where the small road meets the highway is a public school named after the town New Camiling. But everyone in my family has wished it was my great-grandma's name on it. My great grandparents had more than what they needed but they were not selfish I would say. That makes me proud of where I came from.

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