Melo Villareal
“Just for the time, and I will be just fine.”
Similar to the lyrics of that song, I want to call Cagbalete Island in Mauban, Quezon my own, my paradise, my favorite island, just mine. But, just like the wave that can kiss only the shore, I can shout to the world that it’s mine no more than the hours that I spent walking, swimming, jumping and shooting on its powdery fine white sand and crystal-clear water. My shout maybe loud but it can only be eaten by the wind, my footprints maybe deep but it can only be buried by the wave. I can never make it mine, but I can have it forever etched on my mind.
Beach in Cagbalete Island
What is it that made me fall for her? Was it the water? And how its warmth embraced my body? Was it the sand? Talcum-fine and blindingly-white under the scourging heat of the sun? Was it the people? That talked in hushes yet smiling and welcoming upon seeing a visitor? Or was it the island itself, which commands pure serenity, unspoiled and naked of modern conveniences?
Cagbalete Island
It neither had the Manila atmosphere of Boracay nor the loud nightlife of Galera, but Cagbalete sure charmed me with its beauty just by basking under the sun. It never had shouting and screaming people riding a banana boat but i can hear people singing songs of praises for its tranquility. It doesn’t have air-conditioned accommodations and jacuzzis, but the tender touch of the wind and the almost wall-free cottages gave me the closest thing on sleeping and living with nature.
The deafening silence – broken only by waves crashing on the shore and birds chirping and insects hooting – and the steady breeze of the wind is a lullaby, enough for this tired and weary soul to be on dreamland and sleep like an infant.
Cagbalete in Quezon Province
And for these itchy feet that need walking, low tide in Cagbalete offered a kilometric of sand, shells and fun. And if lady luck smiled, a mighty blue sky can perfectly compliment that tanned skin for an endless camera clicks.
Ahh, this is life! Far from chaos, away from pollution-basked metropolis and not dictated on by-the-hour and by-the-number living.
“It sets off something I can’t explain,
and I can’t wait to see you again.”
In Cagbalete, I can feel I’m breathing. Can I live here?
Congratulations Zherwin Perion , you just won a copy of Jessica Zafra’s newest book Twisted 8 1/2 
