Thursday, August 17, 2017

Buasao Forest: The Last of Cordillera's Pine and Mossy Forest Ecotome By Michael A. Bengwayan




Buasao Forest: The Last of Cordillera's Pine and Mossy Forest Ecotome
By Michael A. Bengwayan

You never know when you take a quantum leap. It just happens. When you are called for it. Most often, it  provides you with some of the most unexpected challenges, education and pleasures.

On the early summer of ’99 after a stint in Nepal, I read a letter  handed to me twice, then thrice. “Your application for a grant was approved. You hereby instructed to start doing an eco-profile of Buasao watershed”, the letter  from the Foundation of Philippine Environment (FPE) said.

I handed the letter to my assistant Richard “Dick”Botengan, a childhood friend since we were 7. He read and looked at me with an unsaid question “ So?” I knew what was in his mind. Buasao watershed, cradling the untouched pine and mossy forests of Besao, Mountain Province and Tubo, Abra, is bastion of the New Peoples’ Army (NPA). But then Dick and I have been in many risky places.

“Let’s do it”, he answered his own query..

Wasting no time, I gathered a team of nine people (I and Dick included)—foresters Danilo Killip and Arlene Cid, Johnny Budod, late Bonel Walsiyen, photojournalist Ernesto Raguro, Innocencio Estangki and our guide Michael Tauli.

We went to an adventure that changed our lives.

High in the mountains of the Gran Cordillera, swathed in mists and forests, a long-forgotten movement of the Earth caused lime and basalt rock to protrude, and over the millennia  became covered with moss morphing beyond lichens and liverworts to quietly evolve into its own unique ecology.

The people of Besao, when they discovered it, called it  Buasao where only a few birds sing because of the cold harsh weather. Alas, not too many wildlife venture into the place to break the mirror of smoothness of the waters coming out from a rock that spells life for many villages until Abra..

But other creatures live in and around it, and a rich variety or plant life nourishes in its environs. The water of a small pond,  the swamp surrounding it, the narrow belt or tableland between the  mountain slopes, and the slopes themselves, all provide fertile and varied habitats.

It is the richness or this plant life which has been chiefly responsible for its declaration as a specially protected area watershed  by the government.  Conservation of forest in the Philippines benefits from the circumstance that about a third of the Cordillera region’s area are still forested, and so fall under the jurisdiction of the state, which is also responsible for conservation. In 1986  Buasao was declared one of the eight specially protected areas of the region.

 The nearest point of departure for Buasao is  Gueday to Agawa from Kin-iway. From here, I led my team to a two day 16 hour mountain climb, to a almost a month immersion….explaining to Dick and the rest, our work and providing information about the environment that was ahead of us.

There is freedom when you are high up in the mountains. The air is marvelously fresh and fragrant with the late afternoon smell of damp pine woods. The scene  commands a splendid view overlooking the confluence of two rivers and endless pine forests.

Early the next morning we climbed  up a ridge and began the tortuous ascent to the top where water gushed out fro a precipice itself. Soon the previous night's lodging is lost in the folds of the mountains and the river becomes a whisp of silver. The only access to the small  lake is by a bush and clump of thorny forest shrubs inhabited by small green leeches that get into any hole in your body. The mountains surrounding the promontory are mostly clad in Pinus kesiya and fir-like Cryplomeria japonica which grows faster than the indigenous  cypress Chamacypans philippeninsis and yews Taxus sumatrana, although large stands of virgin forest, a mixture of the pines and hard woods, still remain.

Around the headwaters itself is an untouched pine forest of close to 1,000 hectares with trees aging about 500 years old and can only be embraced by five people. This natural mixed forest is nourished because it  never lacks is water. It rains in these mountains almost 200 days of the year, and even when it is not actually raining the clouds often settle on the mountain tops and drift into their folds and clefts..

But we were lucky. The climb to the peak was in bright sunshine, the deep green of the forests growing brilliantly against the clean blue of the sky with a few white clouds; the air, when we broke our journey now and then, was intoxicatingly fresh. The sun was still shining on our second day of climb and right to the cave which produces the water that gleamed in perfect stillness between tree-covered mountain slopes.

We stood in  a small wedge of ground, 5,500 feet above sea level, surrounded by peaks which soar to nearly 8,000 feet. There was a small pond about a hectare big where the stream which feeds it trickles gently through the high grasses. The margins of the pond are shallow, revealing through the limpid tea-brown water, stained with acid from the encircling trees, the soft, muddy bottom and the underwater plants. A few steps, it seems, would take us to the farther side. Yet the center of the pond, the cleft between two mountains, was surprisingly deep.

No bird sings. Hardly a leaf rustles. Only the intermittent stirring of the water gives a hint of motion, and the tendency to speak in whispers is almost overwhelming. Wild goats,  boars,  monkeys, even black civet cats—as well as a host of lesser animals such as rats, mice, and squirrels—are supposed to live in these mountains, but there is no sign of them. Nor of the ducks, hawks, doves, and other birds found in the region.

Soon a cloud descends, but even before it engulfs us, we get some inkling of the perpetual dampness of the region. The path beside the brook runs under trees heavily bearded with hanging mosses and covered with minute ferns. Despite the sunshine, moisture drips from the trees and miniature forests of inch-high seedlings of the mighty pine trees that nourish on the rotting trunks of parent trees.

The mosses are fascinating. So many varieties grow in so small an area. Plump, velvety cushions compete for space with colonies sporting tiny red masses atop quivering fillaments, and others with serrated outgrowths make them difficult to distinguish from the smallest of the ferns, some with fronds only half an inch long.
Secluded Ecosystem
Trees covered in heavy moss look as though they have caught algae from a receding tide.

Of the species of the trees which grow either around the lake or on the slopes above it, the yew is probably the most impressive. They are very long-lived and thousand-year-old trees are quite common. The Illicium tashiroi, a relative of the magnolia and star anise, and the hemlock-not the small plant whose juice Socrates was condenmed to drink for teaching the youth of Athens to think, but the evergreen tree Tsuga chinensis—are also part of the forest community. Rhododendrons and berberis grow wild here as does a smooth-leafed cousin of the holly, the Ilex mutchagara. And tangled by the very margins of the lake are delicate pink roses, Rosa Philippeninsis, looking as if they had strayed from someone's garden.

It is the small river from the cave,  itself, however, which produces the strongest sensation. Among the  plant species living in its waters was found one hitherto unknown to man, the Sparganium fallax, an unassuming little plant that looks like a sturdy grass with tufts of seeds in the axils of its triangular stems. Around the lake and in the strip of tableland are many plants which look familiar—close relatives of plants found in other parts of the world. Oxalis and pellonia, wild raspberry, viburnum, woodwardia, polygonia and wolfs foot.

The cloud turns to rain and the wind picks up. All trees are "wind-trained,"  a reminder that despite the calm of our arrival this is a high mountain forest beaten by the elements where the tropical plants of the lowland would soon perish.

Here, for three weeks we  stayed—collecting and identifying flora and some fauna. Three weeks of cold and chilly days but warm sunshine.

Did we see or talk to any of the NPAs?

That is another story./michael bengwayan

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.