Waves crashing. Flag flapping in the wind. I was staring at the silver moon rising from the horizon, uncomfortably ensconced on the plastic chair with my feet under the sand while my toes curling, the powdery sand spilling at the sides.
I’m back in Quinale Beach in Anda, Bohol to spend the days of the Holy Week mainly to document rituals as well as shoot then blog about what this beautiful place has to offer. I like this place. Less people. Less crowd. Less development compared to Panglao. It’s a loner’s paradise where you can just be yourself. But I really don’t know about this place. There’s something in this beach that just pulls me closer. Where the heart feels something.
Text messages were exchanged with a former flame. But after emptying my dinner plate of rice and the viand of shrimp omelet and observing the coming high tide, the past just swept in, cruelly bringing with it painful memories.
I was forlorn and in solitude. The emptiness was just so palpable. Vulnerable. I took off my shirt, walked barefoot on the sand and dipped at the sea, hoping to wash away the sorrows.
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My great thanx to Mayor Angelina Simacio for hosting me in Anda, Bohol and to Kathy Pitlo for guiding me around the municipality.
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