Knowing the sea from malapascua, in an instant, you can feel her great loneliness.
One December of the 18th century, Spain's expeditionary fleet ran aground on the island due to weather. They were stranded on small islands, far from friends and family, and spent a Christmas alone. So the Spaniards gave the island the name malapascua, which means "bad Christmas".
It wasn't until later that Chinese gave her a funny name, "MomMy Shoots Loofah." Because of the distance, I could only find a spot in the map, and there was no trace of a loofah. Perhaps the 2013 petrel greedily took all the loofahs away, leaving a devastated island that slowly recovered from the day-to-day waves.
From Cebu Airport to Maya Pier, board the crab boat and run all the way to Mom to shoot loofahs. During the voyage, the waves push the ship, the hull stirs the boundaries of the ocean, opens the gate of freedom in the direction of the advance, and allows the flying fish to cross the boundary of the sea, unfold the pectoral fins, and enter the journey in the air. When the sea breeze cooperates with the betrayal of the sea by the flying fish, the flying fish can glide 200 to 300 meters in the air 4-5 meters away from the surface of the sea. When they are about to fall into the ocean and accept the judgment of the ocean, they will be able to take off again with the help of the tail violently slapping the sponge surface. The flying fish accompanied my voyage, happily demonstrating their superb gliding skills on the surface of the sea.
I don't remember when it started, but I have an indescribable nostalgia for the sea. I stopped at the beach where my mother was photographing loofahs and stared at the sea for a long time. Here, the sea is like a deep blue church, without the splendid decoration of gold and the incense of the temple. Everything is so pure, just like the faith of the believer, at this moment there is only reverence for the sea, and the communication with the heart of the sea.
The sea shelters the island, obscuring the disasters that have plagued the island over the years. I seem to be able to see the salt frost hanging from the bow of the Spanish ship dragged here by the wind and waves, the invasion of the land by the waves on the reef, the dazzling light of millions of broken shells, and the compulsion of the tides piled up on the edge of the beach again and again... And in monadsnoal, not far from her mother's loofah, the figure of the long-tailed shark is building a diver's temple.
At Mama Island, the longtail shark is an absolute star. Only when the mother photographs the loofah in the world can she most likely see this long-tailed shark that stays 150 meters under the sea every day.
The long-tailed shark is the king of the sea here, and it gracefully steps out of the palace, dressed in a tight leather coat, dragging an elegant swallowtail long, and attending the meeting with divers from all over the world.
The long-tailed shark is the nobility of the sea, and its demeanor is wrapped in the solemnity and tolerance of the sea. It walked calmly, then stopped, turned, and closed its long tail, drawing a graceful arc in the deep blue between me and it. The perfect arc, like its secret sign for my invitation, became its regular visitor in this deep blue.
The longtail shark showcases an aesthetic example of fish. It stubbornly grows tail fins beyond common sense, and uses a slightly irrational one-tailed satirizes the missing pursuit of legs by Miss Mermaid in Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tales.
The image comes from the internet intrusion and deletion
The beauty of the long-tailed shark is coveted by greedy humans. Man took it from the sea, cut it open on land far from the sea, and its organs were like destroyed cities, weakly hunched over in the trash, leaving only its liver to be processed into vitamins and fish oil. Humans repeatedly rinsed his tender flesh until his eyeballs were completely hardened and even protruded. In order to ensure the deliciousness of the flesh, humans raced against the clock to implement Ling Chi on its body, and the knife quickly and accurately blocked its body's deep reluctance to the ocean.
The last time it returned to the water was on the fire, and its dry fins were once again plump and emitted an unattractive smell. Without the rendering of the ocean, it can only leave a transparent substance, which is its resistance to the destruction of the natural balance by humans on land, and the denial of death. Perhaps as long as the sea is still there, they will eventually return to the sea, back to the quiet deep blue of their mother's loofah.
That night, I lay on my back on the beach where my mother was photographing loofahs, fishing for the stars in the sky. The brilliant starry sky reflected on the sea, but I still couldn't see the depth of the sea in the distance. Perhaps the secret place with the sea should not be disturbed by humans.
Here, the sea is the salt water of the life of the longtail shark, and the loofah patted by the mother should be their home without repairing.