Bakun water falls

       The mini SUV entered the territories of Bakun, Benguet and the scenery suddenly changed. It was just a few meters from the arc denoting the municipality boundary with Sinipsip and the road dipped further down. I was enthralled by the lush vegetations and thick wooded areas throughout the ride that I forgot to look further up beyond the trees. It was after quite awhile when I did look up to see the cause of the rich dampness of the soil. The mountains were as high and wide, creating a natural barrier of mountains like a fence, surrounding the valleys within.  Like a protective Madonna embracing the Child, Bakun is safe within itself, safe and comfortable as can be, being lulled to peaceful existence by the sounds of nature and the numerous waterfalls around those mountain walls.

       In the slight drizzle and subtle smiling of the sun, the place was a mirage-like portrait of a mysterious, hidden land. The silent spray of mist-like fineness creating bright auras above the ricefields down below. The mountains mesmerize me. Poking outlines of faces and creatures across the green vastness of solid rock canvass. I was counting along the way as we moved further ahead, counting the silky whites of waterfalls from afar. We reached Barangay Poblacion and I counted 4 big falls in front and one across the landscape behind the  new building of a high school. From where I was the mountains were like faces crying continuosly to water the land below.

       One particular outline stands out, a well-defined masculine face embedded at the peak of the Ged-geday Mountains. If he had a body you could almost imagine him lying supine, his face looking up to the Heavens above, taking in the many blessings with gratitude. And yes, he sits on unimaginable treasures given to Bakun in abundant magnitude.

       You see, not all places were blessed the same way. Bakun is a precious land, much like an extraordinarilly beautiful lady, her hand being caressed by many with intentions of holding it forever. She has long lush hair of trees. Once trimmed by logging companies that soon grew back and shone smooth as before. The strands finer and more delicate today but with care and love will strengthen with time. Her mountain bossom is rich and full, and she stands proud of it. Underneath them flows the veins of milky gold that nourishes the earth where she lives. Given her lifetime, the line of prospective lovers grows longer. Each caressing her with gentle promises of love and care. Yet she supposes there must be a reason why she needs to stay that way. She looks another way and there are other suitors, all in daze as they watch her beauty. Hands extended to wipe away her waterfall tears. And this beauty of a dame lives in her naked glory, all natural and simple like God made her so. She does not see why she needs to change that much. Little adornments satisfy her, and the basic necessities of life are all she could ask for.

       That is Bakun. Gloriously beautiful and abundant in more ways than one.