Left a part of me

I spent my long weekend in Quezon Province, at the southern end of the Sierra Madre in Luzon. It was my first time to be there, sleeping through the whole three-hour journey from Metro Manila. I was expecting tall, towering trees that would intimidate me and trigger my imagination to think of horror stories. Instead, I was immersed in a community that shared a common love for the native trees.

They were the Barangay Tanuan Farmers Association, composed of local residents in the area. They devoted their time, energy, and resources to protect the trees that also protected them. Instead of going downtown to look for a comfortable job, they chose to get their hands soiled just to ensure that the next generation will still have trees when their time comes.

It took a terrible disaster for them to finally understand that if they continued to vilify the forest, it would backfire on them. A strong flood once killed hundreds in their community, and they swore that it should not happen again.

I admire their grit and determination so much that I wanted to be like them as well. I wanted that feeling of ownership for the land that I am on. Unfortunately, today, we no longer regard nature in the same way and just continue to exploit it for all the goodness that it has given us. We are stuck in a rut, complaining about the effects of climate change when we do not even know what we have done to aggravate the situation.

We look at forests as resources to be used, mountains as places to be mined, and land as something to be developed. We forget that these are also the things that shield us when nature unleashes its fury.

If only everyone could understand this concept on a different level. Perhaps we would stop asking what nature can give us and start asking what we can give back. Before leaving, I planted a Kamagong tree. It was a small gesture, almost insignificant compared to the vast forest surrounding us. As I pressed the soil around its roots, I realized that it was more than just planting a tree. It was my own way of claiming a small responsibility for the land. I left a part of me in a special place.

On the journey home, I kept on imagining how it would look when it grows old and how tall it will grow. Perhaps, years from now, someone will pass by that same spot and see a tree without knowing who planted it. It may be just one single tree but one can contribute a lot to fill in the patches caused by destruction. My single contribution may not be enough but if everyone else joins in, we can preserve the forest that serves us as well. Leaving a part of ourselves behind means leaving something that can outlive us. To me, that is a good and unsaid legacy left.