A Cold Saturday Morning at McDonald’s Silay: A Quiet Moment Before the City Wakes

Focal Length: 17mm ISO: 400 Aperture: f/13 Shutter: 1/3s

It was a cold Saturday morning in Silay City—one of those rare moments when the world feels paused. The clock had just struck five, and the sky carried that deep, bluish tone of early dawn. The street cleaners had already finished sweeping the plaza roads, leaving the air smelling faintly of dew and dust. A few joggers started to gather nearby, their quiet conversations hinting that perhaps there was an event happening later that day.

Across the street stood McDonald’s Silay, glowing softly against the pre-sunrise darkness. It’s not your typical golden-arches-by-the-highway branch. This one was built inside a preserved Spanish-era ancestral house, and its heritage theme sits proudly among the old-world architecture that Silay is known for. There’s something surreal about seeing a familiar fast-food brand framed by capiz windows and wooden details that tell a story older than any of us.

I went there that morning to take light-trail photos—hoping to catch streaks of passing cars using a slow shutter speed. But as fate would have it, the streets were empty. Not a single car passed. And maybe that was the point: silence is also part of the city’s soul. So instead of the dramatic light trails I imagined, I captured the stillness of a place that holds both history and everyday comfort.

People say McDonald’s is a “happy place,” and in that moment, it truly felt like one. The warm lights, the quiet, the heritage house standing strong—it all felt familiar and comforting.

As I stood there, camera in hand, I remembered being a kid. Back then, eating fast food wasn’t something we did casually. It was a luxury. A treat for graduations, birthdays, or the rare visit of an OFW relative coming home with stories and pasalubong. Stepping into McDonald’s meant celebration.

Now, as an adult with a medical condition that tells me to cut back on fast food, the experience carries a different kind of gratitude. I can’t indulge as often, but every bite of a burger or a piece of crispy chicken feels like a small celebration of its own—a reminder of childhood joy, simple rewards, and moments shared with family.

That cold morning in Silay didn’t give me the light trails I hoped for.
But it gave me something better:
A memory of stillness, a sense of heritage, and a gentle reminder to be thankful for the simple pleasures—whether it's taking a photograph, revisiting a childhood happy place, or savoring a rare breakfast at dawn.