Last week the weather changed, the wind shifted, and these trees bent down definitely from the North. The air became cooler, less humid, the clouds spread differently in the sky, the waves began running to the South. It was the beginning of the season of amihan, and it lasts from now until late March.
And then, from late March or early April until November the wind blows up hot and wet from the South, Humidity is high, heat is intense and the sun burns down like death rays from blinding bright skies. There are two seasons in Dumaguete: This is habagat, the hot season, the time of year that has just gone, and will return- But for now, things will be cooler in amihan.
Anywhere in the Northern Hemisphere this seasonal change to cooler weather happens, and the further North you go, the earlier and more extreme that change becomes. In America snow has already fallen, and night winds form ice on standing waters. Coming is White Christmas- and then the dark days, the lethal blizzards of January and February.
But Negros is too far South for that. Amihan in Dumaguete is more subtle; but the change of season still is real, with a real effect on how everybody feels, although they often are not consciously aware of the change.
In the middle of the afternoon, a boy on break time stands on the boulevard, looking out to sea. Two weeks ago he wouldn’t have been there. The sun was too hot then, the air too heavy, the surface of the sea was blinding with reflected light. Hot wind from the right. If he stood there then, his eyes were burning and his shirt were soaked with sweat.
But now, in amihan, the sun is shaded with wide clouds from the North, the air is dry and light, he can see the surface of the sea, the waves breaking from left to right, and cool breezes on his left ruffle his hair and flatten his loose shirt along his side. He feels full of energy, and alive.
But he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t pay attention to the sky, or the wind, or the way the waves break. He would catch a minor change in Facebook’s interface before he would ever notice a major shift in weather.
Like these graceful coconut trees, he just bends in the wind without words.
