mt. apo in the near

it's hard not to miss Mt. Apo.

especially on a day like this. when i moved to my new private space, one thought that continued to haunt me is, "would i still see Apo in the morning?" after a few days, i realized that the street actually shows a snapshot of its foothills... wow a new facet, which i have not seen before.

see aside from being a fan of mountains in general and climbing its slopes (via Kapatagan) in specific, my fascination and attachment with the country's king of mountains is cemented by a bond. a deep relationship, rarely spoken of, but always felt.

apo has been my symbol of freedom. well, mountaineering could be a symbol of such. but i attach my definition of freedom with respect and deep personal experience.

in the last two years or so that i have been a davaoeño, the image of the mountain has almost always completed my mornings. it may appear as one massive piece of wonder, so imposing in the horizon. other times, its soft corves outline the sky with a unique mixture of midnight blue against the gray morning sky. or it would reveal only parts of it structure, just one face that has turned itself from you, or the breathtaking beauty of its boulders amidst sulphur deposits. sometimes it would be blanketed with a sea of cotton clouds. at these times i tell myself, that even if i cannot see it, i know that it is there, standing tall, majestic as ever.

it needs no eyes to marvel that it is the grandfather of philippine mountains.

as i search the horizons every morning, i take comfort in feeling that there is someone watching my journey to being. a connection that has read my emotions, and has understood the complexities that i am. it stood as a reminder of my quest of personhood, of being the person that i am. it represents the daily struggle to be faithful and the joy that comes with every discovery.

and i know that i would never be alone in this journey, for i have my apo with me. near, never far.