Logging Ban 3: Post-Mortem

Blogger's Note: The last part of the series of articles on logging ban.

It's fall, spring and summer in Philippines all at once
Posted 00:28am (Mla time) Mar 04, 2005 By Neal Cruz, Inquirer News Service

IT IS early spring in the temperate regions, but in tropical Philippines it is spring, summer and fall all at the same time. Aren't we blessed for that?

Look around you. The big, broad, rounded, shiny leaves of the talisay trees are turning yellow, orange, red, purple and rust, then fall off like trees do in autumn. Some santol leaves, also big and broad, also turn red, but the tree doesn't shed all its leaves like the talisay. On the other hand, the mahogany sheds all its leaves, littering the ground below with brown leaves that are blown about by the wind. To a lesser extent, the narra and acacia trees also drop their leaves. Afterwards, the trees all stand naked with their bare branches pointing to the sky, exposing the birds' nests and the nests of the big red ants called hantik in the higher branches, as though it is wintertime.

After several days, the bare branches and twigs will burst with tiny buds as trees do in spring. Those of the mahogany are purplish-brown, all the others are light green. As the buds unfurl into tiny leaves, waving merrily in the wind like so many tiny buntings, the trees attain a light green tinge and, as the days wear on, progressively turn darker green. The tamarind trees also unfurl light green leaves that June bugs find irresistible, just like the humans who gather them for “sinigang” and “sinampalukang manok.” In May and June, the light green color is dotted with black shapes. They are called June bugs, though they are not really bugs but beetles.

Often you will see trees standing side by side doing all these at the same time. One tree would have all its leaves intact while beside it another starts shedding leaves. Still another would be fully bare, with the dead leaves surrounding the ground around it, while a fourth would be sprouting buds and a fifth beside them spreading out light green leaves.

Next time you pass Quezon Avenue in Quezon City, take the opportunity to watch nature changing seasons as the mahogany trees, all in a row beside the street, shedding, sprouting and growing leaves at the same time beside one another, as though they cannot decide whether it's fall, winter or spring.

At the same time, some trees, shrubs and vines burst out with blossoms ahead of the others. The first to bloom is the lowly kakawati, which is already in full bloom with profuse pink blossoms that rival the more famous cherry blossoms of Japan. Next are the hot-hued bougainvilleas that adorn fences, hedges and trees with their red, orange, purple and white flowers, single-petaled or multi-petaled, signaling that summer is really here, what with the heat beginning to soar and Holy Week only a couple of weeks away.

The kalachuchi hangs out not only red, pink, yellow and white blossoms, but also spreads its perfume in the air. Walk under a kalachuchi tree and you can smell its fragrant breath.

Soon, as the heat of summer reaches its peak, it will be the turn of the regal fire tree to take center stage with its red orange blossoms putting its wide-spreading crown on fire. Those passing through Quezon City, especially in and around the Diliman campus of the University of the Philippines, and the two nearby parks, Quezon Memorial and the Ninoy Aquino Park, will soon see this red-hot summer show.

If you happen to drive by Laguna Lake on the Rizal side, look out for an island on fire in the middle of the lake. This is Cielito Lindo, the love island of the late Mr. and Mrs. Jesse Bello who owned it. The couple planted many fire trees on it and in summer, when they bloom, the island is a red spot, looking even from afar as though it is on fire.

* * *

In the last two columns, I argued that instead of cutting down our forests, we should preserve them for tourism as other countries like America, Canada and Japan do.

Decades ago, the New Englanders planted deciduous trees on their hills and mountains and farms. The leaves of these trees turn into a riot of colors before falling in autumn. Now these trees attract hordes of tourists every autumn who tramp all over the New England states just to gawk at the colorful foliage and leave a lot of money to the hotels, inns, cottages, restaurants, gift shops, resorts and their employees.

Since we can't have many trees with leaves that turn into many colors in autumn, what if we plant trees that bear colorful blossoms instead on denuded mountains? After several years, they would be tourist attractions, and instead of foliage tours, we would have our own flower tours.

The trouble with our present reforestation efforts is that we plant fruit trees like mango and cashew or hardwood trees with high-priced timber like narra and mahogany. But they don't grow to harvestable size until 20 years or more. For 20 years or more, the tree farmer has no income from his trees. So why don't we intersperse with them softwood trees that grow faster and can be harvested earlier and at the same time bear colorful blossoms? The leguminous trees like acacia, fire tree, giant ipil-ipil and kakawati are fast-growing softwood that can be harvested after five years. They are good enough for woodcraft, furniture, charcoal and firewood. The farmer, therefore, will have a steady income while waiting for the high-priced hardwoods to mature. What's more, their leaves are rich in nitrogen and make good fertilizer, and they are self-propagating.

Imagine if we had whole mountainsides and hills full of blooming kakawati and fire trees. Won't they attract eco-tourists?

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