It was a beautiful day. The sun was bright, promising a productive day. My son's teacher was absent, and it was my rest day – a perfect combination for a trip to the farm to plant dragon fruits. I called my eldest son to pick us up from our house in the city. We took a motorbike to the farm. While we were accelerating on the motorbike to our destination, we suddenly decided to stop over at our neighbor's farm.
The view was breathtaking. It is a panorama of rolling hills, a quilt of fields, and the deep green of the forests stretching to the horizon. The air was fresh and clean, carrying the scent of earth and grass. It was a world away from the city's noise, a place of serene beauty.
We were fortunate enough to explore their rest house, a simple structure that felt warm and inviting. The view from there was even more spectacular. I spent a while capturing the beauty with my camera, though I knew the photos wouldn't do it justice.
Later, I sat in their kubo under the Gmelina tree, enjoying the refreshing breeze. While having a short chat with the caretaker. I enjoyed watching the gentle sway of the tree leaves, crops, and the grasses. It was a perfect moment of peace. In the countryside, the bahay kubo serves as a gathering place for occasions such as the slaughtering of horses, goats, and chickens. There was a dirty kitchen there and an open-air bamboo washing station too.
(The structure is an open-air bamboo washing station. It is the place for washing dishes, slaughtered animals, the caldero and kawa (cookware).
By eleven, we arrived at our farm. Lunch was quick, we had dragon fruit to plant. But because I hadn't slept well the previous night, I decided to take a restorative nap on the cool, breezy terrace, only to be awakened by the gentle drizzle driven by a strong wind.
It started, a gentle drizzle soon turning into a steady rain. Planting the dragon fruit was impossible. Disappointed, but not defeated, I made a strong cup of coffee. There's nothing like a warm drink for perfect comfort on such a cold day like this.
The rain, however, had its magic. The landscape was transformed, the greens were even more vibrant, the mountains softened by mist. The sight of the mountain and its lush green slopes was exhilarating.
I spent the afternoon capturing this unexpected beauty, the rain-washed world offering a different kind of charm. The dragon fruit would have to wait until tomorrow or next week. But the memory of that day, the unexpected beauty, the precious family time, the warmth of that strong coffee remains a worthwhile treasure. It's a reminder that sometimes, the most cherished moments arise from the unplanned detours life throws our way. The unplanted dragon fruit is a small price to pay for the richness of that rainy afternoon. With the rain finally over, we headed home before my evening classes start.