Some mornings are perfect for a reason. This was one of those. I woke up wrapped in clean white sheets to the mellow chirping of birds outside our window and the soothing sound of flowing water. These are the kinds of music that I rarely, and how unfortunate, hear these days. Not having the need to hurry after opening my eyes, and allowing myself to savor the bed’s warmth for a few more glorious minutes, was a blessing unto itself.
While I was drifting on and off to consciousness, my friend, Mae, was already busying herself in the bathroom preparing before breakfast. I managed to raise my sleepy head and greeted her a “good morning” when she stepped out the bathroom door. Then I rolled onto my stomach and dug myself deeper into the sheets. I lied there still, absorbed by the calmness around us. “This is amazing,” I murmured sleepily. She laughed. I still can’t get over the fact that I was in a dream-like trance, basking in nature’s little luxuries.
It still felt unreal waking up in this rustic-themed room surrounded by capiz windows. Everything was in white: the bed, the linens, the pillows, the curtains, even the walls and ceiling, with only the colored-glass lamps hanging above and a few wooden furniture to break its wonderful monotony. This must be how waking up in heaven felt like, I thought to myself as I tried to whisk away the remnants of sleep then got up and headed for the bathroom.
It was only yesterday that we arrived in this little sanctuary, but we already loved the place. Perhaps, we had fallen in love with it the moment we got off the trike and found ourselves amidst the riotous colors of flowers and the peace and quiet that you cannot find in the city. And being shown in a room that is a perfect mix of vintage and elegance was more than enough to win our hearts over. I smiled at my water-drenched reflection in the mirror as I took the towel to dry my face.
It’s not so often that we could get away from the hustle and bustle of the city. And this place was a pleasant surprise to rest and relax. For a day, we were cocooned in the lush vegetation of Sonya’s garden, explored its nooks and crannies. There was really nothing else to do but to stop and smell the flowers, literally and figuratively. We sat on one of the many garden chairs while sipping tarragon tea and I just let my senses had its feast. Remembering all too well the colorful blooms my eyes had adored, the chorus of birds and flowing water my ears were tuned into, the wonderful mix of scents of flowers and herbs wafting through the air, the delicious taste of fruits and veggies organically grown, and of greens and flowers, that to my surprise, were edible. And all these beneath the warm sunshine and the cool breeze.
