By Wilson Canlas
Yes, I love typhoons. Don’t get me wrong, I do not mean the destructive, horrifying kind-landslides, flash floods, inundated roads, broken bridges and what not.
I mean the unexpected breeze teasing the skin and invading the windows, the sight of the innocent infant cradled in his grandparent arms, the silence waltzing between the lovers who decide to postpone their quarrel, and the warm food serve amidst the howling wind outside the kitchen.
When I was young the whole family unpack our belongings and evacuate to the living room where the rain cannot crash. No offense to the real evacuees, I like the idea of moving out of our bedrooms and settled at the living room, have small talk and cover our heads under the large bed sheet. I could never sleep out of thrill and excitement-the family so close together.
There used to be no name to it now it’s called quality family time. No TV that kill conversation, its engaging time with love ones who you always take for granted.
As a kid, I longed for bad weather because classes are cancelled and I would have a thousand and one reasons to absent from school for at least two days.
The flood water stinks, the shoes sweep away, the body’s not feeling well and not in the mood to wade to school, so on and so forth. So middle-class concerns alright but just a way of coping.
Years later, I witnessed Agusan River swell and the current horrendous to look at. But to a 12 years old, it was an incredible sight. My eyes poop out when a middle-size hut floated by, not swirling but gracefully.
The misbehaving bloated river was unstoppable that it attracted people trooping to Magsaysay Bridge to ogle nature’s show.
And I love the show. It afforded me to experience the good side-at least to a child- of nature wrath. I could not understand why people wish to drive the abusive rain away when they keep cursing the more abusive heat of the sun.I had always prefer storms and typhoons because they allow us to break into one.
We all become one. Battling the world outside and discovering ourselves. Maybe that is what the bad weather is teaching us. We need to listen to typhoons.
Artwork courtesy of fineartamerica.com /R Kyllo