That's the name of a hill not far from our home in the Philippines that Dolores and I used to hike up every week or so, early early, in the cool of the morning. It's a good hike with enough up to it to satisfy us. On top there is a Catholic chapel and some benches where one can catch the first morning stirring of the tropical breeze. Dolores will go in to her prayers while I go sit on a bench. The benches overlook our town of Jagna, surrounded by rice pattys, where the farmers are already working. The streets come to life and get busy, the harbor and market area the focus of the buzz of life. The sun becomes intense and chases us off, we walk home down a cool forested lane, and another day in the Philippines has begun. 
It feels more like home now than the country to which I was born, I miss it dearly.

It feels more like home now than the country to which I was born, I miss it dearly.
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