Dawn

I love to spend time at my brother’s get away in our farm in the Philippines, a cottage outside the City.  It is a back to nature existence  complete with chickens running around the yard, goats, pigs and “carabao” ( water buffalo ) which can be cited plowing the field.  Fruit trees and vegetable garden complete the farm scene.  Depending where the wind blows, one can smell evidence of the two and  four legged residence.  For transients like myself, I found it intrusive and likened it to the smell of horse’s manure in a ranch.  However, those that lived around the farm attribute this trademark smell as part of nature and a prerequisite to farm life.

Dawn in the cottage comes alive with the animal’s frenzy movement and noise in concert that seemed to create a live alarm clock.  With freshly brewed coffee, I used to sit on the porch looking out to the field and watching dawn slowly dissipate into another day.  Shortly after, the sun will slowly rise and life begins again in my little world tucked away in the middle of the sugarcane field not far from  City life.