it’s the rustic charm that drew me in — the creaky sounds of the bamboo bridge as i gingerly followed such delicate trail. and by that, i mean i was scared of walking into a dodgy spot and falling into the shallow waters below.

the water wasn’t the problem. in fact, it was beautiful how it painted the trees and the sky on its placid surface. a masterpiece i couldn’t help staring at because i’m the type of person who suddenly blanks out before these types of scenery you’d think i just went on an absence seizure. and it wasn’t even about me drowning because it was no deeper than my ankles but then again, i’m short. so, realistically, maybe no deeper than my knees. or my neck, if i have to be brutally honest about my height.

as shallow as this sounds, i was scared of falling and getting pricked by the mangrove branches sticking out.

i don’t know if you’ve ever planted mangroves in your life, but i did. they made us do it when i was in high school, way before saving the earth was considered globally cool. it was muddy as. and i have a very vague memory of puncturing my foot in of those things. obviously, it hurt. otherwise, i wouldn’t be having a PTSD about it.

either that, or i was just being a wimp.

the place was called omagieca obo-ob mangrove garden, an eco park with its characteristic bamboo walkways stretching all the way to the sea. well, sort of. it can only go so far, really, but i gotta admit it was still a fair hike.

this is one of those places where the whole “it’s the journey, not the destination.” needs to be applied. because frankly, other than the walk and being one with nature and all that sh%t, there’s nothing much to do in here.

well, you can feed the fishes but that’s about it.

or maybe go diving from that makeshift tower if that’s your kind of thrill.

other than that, this place would probably bore you.

but i LOVED this place. because (1) i’m boring; and (2) for some reason, i felt connected to the universe while i was there. you know that feeling you get when you’re surrounded with nature and all your senses seem to be rejoicing and exalting songs of praise from deep within? i didn’t break out in fervid hallelujahs like someone just touched by the holy spirit but deeeeeeeeeep down inside, i felt happy. not the manic kind. more like the “yep, my soul is smiling.” kind of happy. you know what i mean?

sometimes i don’t know why i even bother explaining myself.

*raven at 1 year and 3 months old