We had a holiday the other weekend -- my family and I. We didn't expect much-- just a break from the humdrum.
The two days and one night we spent at Pahiyas Resort in San Juan Batangas were fun . We had a fill of the sun and the ocean. We enjoyed soaking (for me), swimming (for the rest), boating, snorkeling and feasting on the fresh catch that enterprising fishermen sold, cottage to cottage.
I also enjoyed the long walk (and talk) by the beach with an often distant son, never mind if this was prompted by the mundane need to push a heavy dinner down.
But perfect? Hmmm -- nowhere near, and anyway, there was no expectation of it -- from no one of us.
But I have always thought I'd recognize perfection when it stared me in the face.
And it did -- on our way home.
We just had lunch at Kusina ni Salud and were traversing this tiny bridge off Maharlika Highway in Barangay Sta. Cruz, San Pablo City. Looking steadily to my right (as I always do during a ride), I espied a scene down by the river that made me gasp. "Stop, stop," I told the driver (translation: oldest son). After a moment's hesitation, he did, then backed down. "Hey, hey, take a picture, take a picture," I yelled to my aspiring filmmaker-daughter. But she was too sleepy to comply.
I yanked her camera, went down, and clicked away at what I thought were perfectly happy folks in a perfect little place enjoying a perfect moment.
Above is the first stealthy shot, hurriedly and nervously taken.
Uh oh ... here they have begun to notice me!
Finally, a tacit permission to go ahead, click some more ("and publish in your blog").
For the rest of the way home, I lectured my daughter why she shouldn't sleep on a perfect photo opportunity -- until her ears bled.