Drizzly dawn in Cubao.

Went out under an umbrella. Bought myself a big breakfast at a hawker's stand but managed to consume only half of everything inside our kitchen.

Went back to my bedroom and tried to go back to sleep. It was still quite dark outside. Didn't turn the AC or the fan on, and so a lot of atmospheric sounds came in through my windows. Below the sounds was the barely audible, subliminal, chanting of a hymn by a male chorus. I thought that it was coming either from a religious radio or TV program two units away, then wondered whether it was from the Christian chapel about ten houses down the street, it being a Sunday, and that, by some fluke of energy, the music traveled through the narrow interstices between neighboring firewalls, through our rear passage, and into one of my bedroom windows. But, there were several things strange about what was being sung: I had never heard that particular melody before, it was comprised of only four notes in variation, and it was non-stop, like the rondalla music I always hear whenever there is a fairy celebration in my sister's garden or in our dragon tree. I closed my eyes and followed the source of the chanting, which led me to the steel parapet encircling our stainless steel water tank two levels above. Sure enough, male fairies were standing on the parapet and chanting fervently either to the rising sun or to the sky.

I learned two things I hadn't previously known:

--only male fairies praise the Creator/Nature/the sun/the sky and female fairies do not do so.

--when chanting hymns, male fairies are garbed in flowing, white robes, and I could not help but wonder whether they are often mistaken for angels.

Should I wake up extra early next Sunday I hope to hear and witness the same all over again.

No, this wasn't a dream.