Sand, sea, and sunsets.
This was my life when I was a child. My mother was from a small fishing village in the town of Ilog in Negros Island. She used to glean for seashells for consumption which I was lucky enough to experience as I have been visiting the place every summer when I was young. In fact, I was rather very skillful in that task. The usual gleaning trips involved some of the most awe-inspiring sunrises and sunsets as it was usually the time of the lowest tides in the place, leaving vast sand bars for me and my cousins to wander around. During those times, the scene never really amazed me. I didn’t even know the word “magnificent” for description. It was common to have our eyes partly blind after staring at the orange tinted sun. It was an ordinary thing to walk on cool ankle-deep water that stretched over a kilometer offshore.
I am now a marine biologist specializing on researches on marine mollusk. Recently, a friend asked if during my trips I was able to observe a really perfect orange sun setting behind the horizon. I answered perhaps I did, and searched my recent memories for those sunsets. I couldn’t remember any vivid images, though I was very sure I’ve seen it…just where? It occurred to me…I didn’t search deep enough. Then I remembered that perfect sight. Time came when I had the chance to visit the place again, which was more often at present. So now not only me, but anyone who sees the photos would know that this little fishing village of my childhood adventures is more than just a magnificent image, it was…and still is my life.