Laguna

Ambrosial, that was the word. 

It was one of those ethereal, incandescent days that basked everything and everyone in a blissful glow. The type of perfection that longed for an enchanting background playlist and warm, fuzzy cinematography.  One day, crossing three states, late night neon glows on the stretch of dark highways, padding on hard sand at night on the low tide, crab searching, throwing lights, crowds cries of delights splattering the night. One day, started off with a dip at dawn on the rising sea, a cool dawn that morphed into a brilliantly blinding morning, that was deliciously spent with a HD view of the open sea and the abundance of feverish activities that comes with it, finishing a book, taking a nap. A day that was later spent with a stroll by the coast and then scavenging round a small, pebble rich island, some fishermen catching squids and fishes up to their knees with their nets and hats, during which the clouds suddenly stormed open to bring about a bustling, thunderous jinx of rain that lasted all the 5 minutes that we were on the island. Giggling high, running back to the car to try and get changed and dry, and as soon as we got decent, safely managed to drive back to the beach just in time to catch the sunset on that wondrous day, a scene dotted with the silhouettes of our friends playing kites and lounging on the shore.

You know how some moments are so picture perfect in life? Ones that your mind automatically takes a mental picture of, to be stashed and cherished and dug out for years to come? Frames of frozen smiles and glorious landscapes and people who made up the patchwork of  life, at that point in time. I know my heart felt like bursting, soaking up and savoring lovingly each drop of that night and day. But still, at the back of my mind, there was a little niggling voice that kept asking, albeit in a minute way, reminding me, that heavy highs always come with heavy lows. There're always shadows of hidden concerns and mountainous worries and burdening responsibilities, stashed underneath a blanket of felicity. Call me a brick, a pessimist, a realist, but my guard is still, and will remain on alert for now. Hence with a grain of salt, I'll wrap this day beautifully with a pastel satin ribbon and take it for what it is, and not to overthink and overanalyse and expect any more from it, to see things that may or may not be there. You shouldn't ever ruin things with too much of good or bad elements. And if you're back to wondering about the parcel, for what I'm taking it, as it is, this one goes up on that high shelf as possibly, one of the most awesome days of my life.