Planting a tree is…
At first, I thought that the number one solution to the environmental challenges we have been facing these last several years was a very easy thing to do. Growing a tree was, in that state of my mind, supposed to be the best way to combat global warming and it could be a breeze, effortless. I then imagined that if I dug a hole on mother earth and stuffed it with a robust seedling, the young plant would, without having to be really cared for, become a tall tree forming part of a forest cover.
If I entertained that simplistic idea, it only showed my obvious ignorance on the subject matter. When I was a young kid, I only helped plant coconut trees in my father's land. Nothing else. And because I was too naive to realize my error then, I, years ago, began what I surmised was the easy task.
A little learning may, indeed, be a dangerous thing. After knowing from superficial inquiries that the lumber yield of a Mabolo tree would be Kamagong, a kind of a much sought after hard wood, I chose to plant more of it than the other species like Tugas, and Bayong, on the perimeter surrounding my small garden in a mountain barangay. Sourcing the initial few Mabolo seedlings from privately maintained nursery near the Leyte State University in Baybay City, thru then mayor, now Congressman Boying Cari, I spent just two Saturdays to plant my seedlings together with the rest of the species.
That first attempt to help restore our forest however, led to many more Saturdays of visiting the garden. The wellness of the trees began to be as important as the fertility of my vegetable plants. Without my sensing it, the urge to attend to the Mabolos and other trees became addicting. On such growing attention I gave my young trees, I found out that planting trees was not an easy thing to do, after all.
There was, at the back of my ignorant mind, the constant and uneducated fear that the plants, without being watered normally, would be famished to death. So, I had to have some helping hand fetch water from an open well to wet thoroughly the plants frequently. I was also afraid that the bushes, when not removed from where I planted the Mabolo and other trees, would choke the young plants. The need to have another person regularly till soil and furrow the land surfaced.
It has been years since I began this work. Happily, the mortality of the plants is unbelievably low. Of the more than a hundred Mabolos I planted (plus a much smaller number the other species), only two could not survive man's cruel intervention. Someone unknown to me uprooted a new plant and another person tied his farm animal to a Mabolo. Today, some of the trees are now ten footers and growing so well, thank God, that I am certain that when I shall have crossed the great barrier, my children and their own children will have Kamagong (and Tugas and Bayong) with which to build their homes.
I write of my small effort here in this column because the simmering summer heat we are presently experiencing is a grim reminder of the continuing need to plant trees. All of us have to nurture a tree each and those with extra time may plant more.
In addition, I feel like printing a caveat. While I smile seeing teams upon teams of people going on tree-planting trips, deep in my heart and from the little experience I have, I also know that such expeditions are mostly for show. They do not achieve the desired result. Stuffing a young plant into a newly dug hole is not a conscientious effort to grow a tree. To me, it is not planting a tree. Each newly planted seedling has to be cared for by regularly watering it, and constantly clearing it of grass or bush. Is it true that this attention period is about three years? Because I am ignorant of this, I can only say, oh yes, I tended to my surviving trees that long.
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