Honeybees and Humans

   Tonight's rant may be inspired by three things, or not. First, my walking along my child's school pathway and seeing a row of about four dead honeybees.  On the other side of this path is a flower bed of different colored blooms.  The school is located on hilly land, blessed with a moderate climate and vegetation is abundant.  I wondered if their deaths were part of the normal cycle of honeybee life...to suck their last blossom's nectar and then just pass out on the side. Or, if the recent almost-daily burning of grass (again by the big property developers...see March 2011 post) had anything to do with their demise.  I did read somewhere that honeybees' navigation has been affected by the world...

   Second...my child's current piano piece, "Honeybee" and her second visit to a farm animal and botanical ''zoo" with a honeybee section have made her wildly passionate about them.  Third, and this is related to the first and second...I just swatted one inside my house today.  The child found it flying against a closed window.  As we were in a hurry to leave and I worried about not seeing it and it buzzing around later when we were asleep...I immediately did the deed.  I apologized, actually apologized to the bee and explained my action to the child.  She only echoed what I usually tell her ..."it won't harm you if you don't harm it".  She was then worried it might harm me in retribution.  I was worried about how it found its way inside.

   Well, my child hasn't grasped the effect of "death", but her worries about retribution are not unfounded.  Honeybees are probably too sweet (sorry) to do that...but the reality is, they go, humans go. It's not retribution, it's self-inflicted.

    And this is the latest out there:

    http://tvnz.co.nz/sunday-news/honey-bees-under-attack-5847035

Full Moon, Narras Bloom, 36 degrees and Maybe...Hopefully, (a few minutes more)...RAIN

    When it is this HOT and HUMID, and one has a HEADACHE caused by dehydration...it is a struggle to do anything that involves movement.  I woke up to this perfume--it is rich and for some reason (maybe the Gap Guest House's jasminey or honeysuckl-ey air) reminds me of Chiang Mai, Thailand. It has not rained here in weeks; last weekend the forecast thunderstorms quickly reverted to the sunny 36 before Friday even came.



    In the beginning of this blog, I wrote about how the Narra blooms after a brief shower usually in the month of March.  Now, no rain, but just a very full moon, and voila, yellow flowers, heady scent.  I appreciate the scented air, because really...enter a shopping mall these days and you won't escape the air heavy with the scent of mmm....pawis (perspiration).

     So anyway, I need a horticulturist to confirm this.  It seems to me that flowers bloom when I water sporadically. That is, water it well an deep one day, and then the next maybe skip watering, even in the heat.  The sampaguita has sure proven this to be true. It does not want too much watering. And now it has presented us everyday with our daily dose. A fist full of flowers.  
     

Ay nasingit (oh! it got squeezed in)! These are flowers of the MORINGA OLEFEIRA (malunggay)
They emit fragrance too.

Sunday, Feb 5 : Herbana Farms

     We might be "organic romantics" as the generous farmer surmised...but it's a start.  I came for the lure of a "Community Garden" and a "Kids Garden". The latter having been my dream for over a decade now.  Farming, I know, is hard work. It is especially difficult in our climate.  But that day, we remained very cool and comfy. We listened intently to Mr. Carandang as we toured his farm for nearly two hours, and left feeling even more refreshed than when we arrived.
 
    The adults had not had any water to drink but we did not feel thirst.  As we walked, he handed out petals, leaves, and fruit to taste.  There were pretty flowers to make salads both colorful and tasty.  Some were crunch and juicy. The kids harvested kale, carrots, and pepper.  And we learned so much more about true organically grown crops, practices for sustainable farming, and compost.  

    We really appreciated the tour and talk.  My husband noted how "Mr. Carandang is a man who really loves the land...did you see how he held up the soil? It's a true passion". 
  
    If we had not the kid, we would certainly avail of the volunteer program to live and work on the farm.  But then for a growing number of people, the kid would be part of, if not the reason for shifting lifestyles. 

    I learned new things like zoning of plots, and following the direction of the wind.  I wonder if they farm according to phases of the moon, as well.

 Pulling out a carrot

      While at the time of our visit, the parts of the farm for us to see were in down time, we are certain that by May when they hold a Harvest Festival the land will be lush. Actually with all the interesting and beneficial vegetation at every step it already was, to our minds.

    On this farm's  website says it accepts donations. You know what, if I had won tonight's lottery, I would support this.  Our children need to learn from this farm.  And it's not far from Sta. Rosa. http://www.herbanafarm.org
It's not even far from Metro Manila. It's in Calamba, just along the road to Tagaytay Highlands.

     I forgot to get the Gotu Kola natural memory enhancer for my dad.
Oh, I guess make that for ME, too!

Mmm, smell that? It's the Narra tree!

     You never know what tomorrow will bring. Tomorrow is today, and today is heady with the scent of the narra trees' flowers.  How lovely to wake up to this naturally-fragranced air! The  exotic "bango" (scent) comes in wisps, swirling in the air, blown in through our windows by the breeze.  The lush green leaves are making a graceful brushing sound as I type.  Music and fragrance from the trees and air!

     I was going to start posting yesterday, but then it was going to be an angry post, a bad start for a new blogger.  Yesterday, and on some days since last week, we have been inhaling, no--choking, on smoke from one of the 'developments' out here in Santa Rosa.  It rained "abo" strips (ash).  We left Makati alongside EDSA, after years of trying to stop the burning of leaves and grass at the seminary near us.  Not even reporting them to the MMDA headquarters across their lot stopped it. To be fair, there seemed to be a period when it stopped right after my call to the chairman.  After a brief spell, the "pagsisiga", an illegal activity, really, went on during weekends and holidays.  We endured black dust from EDSA buses settling stubbornly on all our appliances, furniture, and heaven forbid, in our respiratory systems.  Then we moved here, and everyone who learned about it understood, it's for the "air".  There is space and air here because of unoccupied fields of cogon...which are burnt.

     Oh dear. I started my blog on that negative note anyway. This is how I really hoped to begin:
Narras in bloom!

underneath the narra tree...see the fuzzy leaves? It's windy.

If only the scent could be posted...!

     The scent is rich, perfumey but just so, not overpowering in a headache-y way. There is no way I can describe it any further except to say it reminds me of the scents of jasmine or honeysuckle. Oh but this narra, it's potent after all ha. Smelling it makes me feel...pretty? See? It's affecting my brain already.  People outside should be happy today, not the happy that is drug-induced though, haha. 

    Last March, when they bloomed one day, I learned narras bloom a day after a rainshower in February or March.It hasn't really rained, but it's been overcast and cold here. The flowers last only one or two days and then they are yellow little dots on the ground, flying together toward the sidewalks' edges.  Tokyo has its cherry blossoms in bloom right now, and these are our own temporary flowers. Not outstandingly pretty, they make up for yesterday's smoke and ashfall. Alright, I must not complain too much about my air now.  I've been thinking of what our Japanese brethren are going through. 

     My milflores also currently in bloom is for very a good Japanese friend in Tokyo who remains optimistic despite the empty grocery shelves she has been facing each night after work. You have a home with us, my sister.