Thursday, August 17, 2017

Lamplighters By Michael A. Bengwayan



 Lamplighters
By Michael A. Bengwayan
One night, alone in my forest farm Habitat in Tublay, Benguet, Philippines, I fell under the spell of fireflies.

They came slowly, lights flickering, chasing away night spirits, sending messages only shadows can decipher. I sat long and hard, many nights after that, reading everything I could about these natures’ lamplighters.

The intermittent light of the firefly can function something like an inkblot test,  I learned. These  blinking bugs reveal their own proclivities and predilections-- frequency of flashes; music, rhythm; and yes, color.

For many people, fireflies spark sweet memories of childhood and languid summer nights. I was no exception. When I was little, on summer nights my family and I used to put a straw mat on the ground in front of our house and lie down to watch for fireflies. At that time, despite the lack of material affluence, we enjoyed rural life a great deal, especially seeing fireflies light up in the sky. That kind of beauty was just beyond description.

Part of the reason fireflies are associated with childhood for so many people, however, is that they are less often seen today.  The Philippines is home to 21,000 insect species, but the number of fireflies has dropped as their habitats have shrunk over the years. No one is working to reverse the trend through research, conservation and promotion of these pixyish night fliers.

There is a need for an archipelagowide survey of fireflies, their habitats and other ecological factors to create a kind of databank that can be used by researchers and environmentalists.  State universities and colleges can team up with agricultural and tourism groups to rehabilitate the natural environment of fireflies and to promote ecological tours and firefly viewing.

Government agencies, such as the DENR and DOST and private groups must be urged to have conservation plans to preserve the habitats and breeding grounds of the firefly and to organize viewing.

In  Japan, it is estimated that every year, the number of the domestic residents viewing fireflies has amounted to more than 1 million. The magnificence of fireflies lighting up the sky can be seen in many of our country’s mountain areas. Hopefully, through the appreciation of such natural wonders, the general public can get to know the importance of conservation and pitch in.

Indeed, because of their spectral luminescence, so rarely seen in the everyday world, fireflies tend to be an easy sell. During the witching hours of dusk, fireflies, also known as lightning bugs, begin to glow in yellow, greenish yellow or orange hues. They can glow for half an hour to five hours at a time either continuously or intermittently. Different species blink for different lengths of time, like the dots and dashes of Morse code. And like Morse code, the flashes are used to communicate, sometimes as a warning to other fireflies and sometimes to catch the attention of a desired mate. Generally, species active in the spring and summer produce flashing lights, while autumn and winter fireflies tend to emit a continuous glow.

The light comes from the "lantern"--technically known as the photophore--located on the underside of the rear part of the abdomen. In the lantern, the chemical compound luciferin and the enzyme luciferase react with oxygen to produce light, which is directed and intensified by reflectors.

Male fireflies have two lanterns, big eyes and a thinner body, whereas the females have only one lantern, small eyes and a fatter body. Even the larvae glow. Females lay eggs on moss, wet soil or among fallen leaves.

Fireflies have a life span of approximately one year, broken into four stages--the egg (20 days), the larva (10 months), the pupa (7 to 10 days) and the adult (2 to 3 weeks). They are remarkably adaptable, and different species can be found at different altitudes in the Cordillera region. Between April and June, they are more likely to be found in the plains and hilly areas, and from November to January it is best to seek them out in higher mountain areas.

Breeding patterns are similarly diverse. The larvae, the stage at which the firefly spends most of its life, are classified into three types based on their breeding environment--aquatic, semi-aquatic and terrestrial. Of the Philippines’ 76 species identified thus far, 58 are terrestrial.

There is only one semi-aquatic species found in the country, Pristolycus kanoi Nakane. It generally inhabits riverbanks and plucks its prey from the surface of the water. It is common in mountains of a low or medium altitude.

Aquatic species are only slightly more common; six have been identified worldwide. They live primarily in Asia, and three of them can be found locallly--Luciola ficta Olivier, Luciola sp.and Luciola substriata Gorham.

Terrestrial breeders account for the majority of  firefly species. Luciola cerata Olivier is the most common. Fireflies of this species dwell in low-altitude (under 1,500 meters) mountain areas. Only one species, Pyrocoelia analis (Fabricius), can be found in the country’s low-lying coastal plains. A trek into the mountains is required to catch a glimpse of the many other species in the 7, 100 islands of the Philippines.

Firefly larvae also differ greatly in their eating habits. Since fireflies spend most of their lives in this stage of development, understanding the larvae's eating habits is helpful to understanding their relationship to the larger environment.

The wormy creatures feed in one of two ways--by eating decomposing bodies or by hunting live prey. Luciola anceyi Olivier, Luciola cerata Olivier and Luciola gorhami Ritsema, for example, consume the carcasses of arthropods and mollusks. As scavengers, they are nature's recyclers, transforming spent bodies into new life.

Other firefly species are less content to eat what they find, preferring instead to pick their dinner from among the living. Species such as Pyrocoelia praetexta Olivier, Luciola ficta Olivier and Lamprigera yunnana (Fairmaire), for example, attack ants, earth worms, shellfish, snails and other small arthropods by injecting them with a sort of digestive liquid that anesthetizes victims. Once the prey is immobile the firefly larvae go to work with their jawbones until the carcass is consumed.

By the time a firefly reaches adulthood, it leaves behind these carnivorous eating habits. In fact, the illuminating fliers consume a few droplets of dew or nibble on the pollen of flowers. Since they have lost their taste for flesh by adulthood, fireflies are commonly perceived as human friendly.

While fireflies might be friendly to humans, however, humans are encroaching on the habitats of the insects with harmful results. The environmental conditions for fireflies, especially aquatic species, are deteriorating. The development of waterways, the draining of wetlands, and the shrinking of terraced farms have left fireflies with few places to lay their eggs. The aquatic species are in fact easier to cultivate in conservation projects, and it is quite possible to create the proper environments for breeding. Farmers might be encouraged to include fireflies in their eco-recreational farms, which are increasingly common in  the Philippines.

In general, humans are threatening to the firefly's habitat. River pollution (often caused by factory waste), the use of pesticides and the development of once wild lands have resulted in fewer fireflies. Perhaps the most curious point of conflict between humans and fireflies is light. While people are often enchanted by the illuminated insects, the bugs are repelled by the artificial light created by humans. As cities and towns grow, therefore, fireflies move farther away to avoid the ambient light.

Scholars are still looking into the reasons for this curious phenomenon and trying to better understand the firefly's world. No one is doing academic research on the firefly in the Philippines..

Although the search for new species and the investigation into the firefly's realm goes on like  "looking for a lantern in the dark."  The discovery of unidentified species, as well as the wonder of these light-emitting creatures make it all worthwhile.

There is a need to protect the habitat of the firefly. I suggest for the adoption of ecological engineering methods for public works projects, such as channeling rivers and clearing mountain trails. Fireflies help draw people to  the Philippines’ primitive forests and stimulate interest in the outdoors in general.


Indeed, some feel that the survival of the firefly is a good litmus test for overall environmental conditions. If we can success fully save fireflies, that means we have protected the living environment of mankind as well. But if we fail to protect our environment, thus causing the gradual extinction of some creatures such as fireflies, we may eventually suffer the same fate.

Education is key to the success of conserving nature. By launching educational campaigns, we hope to inform the public of the necessity of environmental protection and how they can contribute.

Fireflies have always had a way of casting a spell on humans, in part because they appear in the early evening just after the dinner hour when the day fades into night. They float like night spirits amid the darkness, rekindling a sense of wonder.



Hopefully, they will always illuminate our evening skies with their enchanting beauty. /Michael a. bengwayan
 

Thursday, August 10, 2017

The World In a Garden By michael a. bengwayan…




 The World In a Garden
By  michael a. bengwayan…

I bet you your garden is not as ugly as mine. It is unmanicured,  has no pattern, designless and un-uniform. It has everything most “educated”gardeners don’t like—weeds, worms, decaying leaves,  wood louse, earwigs, centipedes, earthworms, lizards, bullfrogs, ants, spiders  and many a flying and buzzing critter. You name it.

But here, the  wind whispers to the trees, plants beckon shyly and kiss the soil,  fallen fruits  and shapeless leaves dadorn the grass, rainbow flowers tease the sun, and birds hide and seek beneath twigs heavy with fruits. All are diverse,  yet  interconnected.  All part of the other,  but never apart. All interdependent, not any independent.

Each day,  when I am home and  my legs allow,  when the unselfish sun beams through the painted clouds, I go to my garden to feel life.  There,  I renew my existence, re-energize, feel  my  passing thoughts,  hear my heart’s unspoken words. Because living life  has become more difficult everyday due to man’s unforgiving, endless greed and unsatiable hunger for material possession.

Out here,  as  I gently pull out plants called weeds,  by unthinking minds,  and lay them on the soil to rot again and enrich the Earth anew,  as I clutch a soil with wriggling worms,  to plant a seed,  I know am reaching out to the Only Source of Life.  I am able to comprehend better what life is,  in this world.  

Communicating with the Almighty, they say is a prayer. I say it is life being lived.  Anything less is just an existence.  I am a God-believer. And as one,  I understand  appreciate the truth that I am alive, awake, untamed, free, tolerant, non-linear,   non-comformative  and non- confrontational but activated.

The garden soil reminds me of  my roots. Of my creation by the Only and Most Powerful  God in the universe. The black-brown clump called dirt by unknowing  humans,  supports life for billions, without it of which, nothing will grow. It teaches us to respect all creation as sacred. That,  it is demanded from us to respect ecological ethics, diverse and cultural evolution,  balance between being and doing.

The free growing trees, weeds, flowers and busy flying and crawling denizens symbolize how we should live. With simplicity, passion, kindness, creativity, authentic expression, and  with a purpose,  outside of the stifling confines of today’s dysfunctional, distracted and insane cultural mindset. 

I take time to sit and watch everything that happens in my garden. Everything that the soil  is and does is perfect. There are no exceptions to this.  The soil   accepts what we reject as wastes, composts these with earthworms,  wood lice, century bugs, millepedes and centipedes and  microorganisms to grow life that provides food for all creatures. The spiders and bull frogs eat the worms; the worms eaten by birds and the natural phenomenon of food chain goes on.

This perfect natural arrangement could only be made by God who has thought of everything. Yet here we are, stewards, destroying the same delicate balance as if nothing matters.

It continues to frighten me about what the relationship  is that exists between us and other creation in our natural world. We might be allowed to think we’ve got the upper hand for a short while, but this is just an illusion. When  we impose our will recklessly, we are ignorant that sooner rather than later, Mother Nature will reassert her dominance. And it will not be long when humans will start living around the edges of things.

Easily overlooked,  we must look at our world  as life itself. But how can we when we can’t understand this in our very own garden.

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

Teaching Matigsalog Lumads in Mindanao How to Create Tree Nurseries

Teaching Matigsalog Lumads in Mindanao How to Create Tree Nurseries

From  2011 - 2015, even as I was planting trees in Benguet and fighting tree destroyers like SM,  I worked with and for 500 Matigsalog Lumads to reforest 2,000 hectares in the raped and deforested hinterlands of Marilog even with Communist guerillas' and government troopers' skirmishes. We planted two million trees, taught the Lumads sustainable farming nd prevented landslides and soil  erosion. I was an adopted son of the Matigsalogs and in a rare ritual, they made me a "Datu".

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Bury My Heart Beneath the Rainy Wounded Forest



Dispatches/2   Bury My Heart Beneath the Rainy Wounded Forest
…..michael a. bengwayan
There’s something about the rainy season nowadays. This year it arrived early, like a visitor who wishes to help with the meal rather than wait to be served. 

It comes teasing us with afternoon rains on warm blustery days. Then easing us out  with mild  cool breeze on evenings.

 This year is different, at least here in the northern part of the Philippines. We’ve had  a short summer.  Several really hot days, but mostly warm. And then last week: a thunderstorm. Torrential rains.  it is  tempestuous in some places: flooding.

But what lies beneath is where the whole story happens.

What happens when warm days turn wet  and sickening wet rainy season? It soaks the trees, and then warmer temperatures nudge a flowing life beneath the surface. 

What happens to us under those circumstances? We start dreaming. We make plans. We say, “Not yet!” while dreaming of “It’s time!” We let the ideas and thoughts and interests that survive just below our surface take shape. Rainy days make space for thoughts often pushed out of the way by sunshine and blue skies. Rain puts everything in perspective, if only for a little while. Rain finds time.

At my forest farm Habitat,( a five hectare expanse of pine trees, alder, narra, black wattle, calliandra, coffee, etc) and   it takes so much time to deal with rainy season. Rain is gray and quiet, lonely and sleeping. Rain means long naps beside the fire to keep the darkness away. Rain has the power to drain our enthusiasm. It can steal our joy if we don’t find ways to embrace its gifts.

During rainy seasons when my left leg was not killing me then, I plan my gardens. I clean  the house, read books, write miles of prose  and drink kettles of coffee right from my orchard.

Every evening,  I cozy up to a blazing fire. Learn. Study.  At the middle of the night, I would go out and breathe the sharp, crisp air  from the trees and stretch my lungs. 

An early riser, I would always find something to do besides work and more work and obligations and duty.  I try to be creative. Be inquisitive. Be patient. Be kind.  I stop and listen to the sounds of  the rain, the wind. I can always hear them calling. … the silence of the woods. 

The trees know rainy days is a time for quiet, for rest. The birds in refuge at my attic,  sense it, too.
A prolonged rainy season can be lonely. You can feel some dead feeling of it, feel the bone structure of the landscape.

But our whole story never shows … but it’s there, isn’t it? Living, breathing, growing, stretching just below the surface. Waiting for a warm day when sparkling sun gets the ideas and enthusiasm flowing for our good.
 Indeed. Because nothing illustrates the point quite like a mighty dry pine tree. Stoic and silent in the rainy landscape but oh, the possibilities flowing inside.

What’s below the surface of  a rainy season? What’s thriving beneath the wet exterior that waits for the heat and light of day? Rainy season is for examining the whole story, our story … the hidden dreams … the quiet goals. 

Of burying the past, and living the new.