Saturday, January 16, 2016
015: The Acacia Tree
Even at midmorning, the sun is unbearably hot and blinding in Dumaguete. Clouds are scarce over the coast. The light breeze is brief respite from the heat, as is the shade of the acacias along the boulevard.
Jose Rizal was said to have walked along this very avenue during a stopover on his way to exile in Dapitan. That's the local legend, anyhow. If it's true, these could be the same trees that lined the boulevard back then. No one can prove if this is really the case -- whether Rizal truly stepped off the boat or whether these are the same trees -- but a story as imaginative as that has got to be true.
I finished reading A Moveable Feast last night. I haven't read a book that affected me as much in a long while. In Feast, Hemingway is alternately endearing and petty, lofty and raunchy, vicious and contrite. But the prose is never anything less than alive. This is a book I will have to go back to every now and then.