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Dreams of the Forest
by Ryan Tanauan
Haring Ibon Issue 39 | July-September 2009

When we arrived at the Caliraya Lake Watershed to participate in Haribon’s ROAD to 2020 campaign, my friends and I had one thing in our minds—plant native trees. Weeks before the said event, it appealed to us like a new adventure, since this would be our first time to actually plant trees and our second trip to Caliraya. A significant crowd abound in the place, dispersed in random spots where tree seedlings await to be planted. The sun was high that late morning, and despite the sweat and sunburn, both young and old people enjoyed their experience of convening with nature.

It seemed to be a perfect chance for everyone, especially for those from urban areas, to open themselves to such an experience of appreciating nature. It was an important endeavor done when family and friends get together; where strangers befriend each other, all for the sake of a grand environmental cause— to bring back our forests. While the excitement waned along with the heat and laughter, silence grew inside of me. Adrift in the movement of senses, I put myself in the deeper presence of this moment.

Treading through grasses and small yellow flowers on that hilly landscape, I began to look for a spot where I could start, then geared up my hands with a pair of thin plastic gloves. The moment I touched the earth, I felt a connection. There is something in this viscid lump of earth that filled my soul, along with putting the seedling into the dug hole. It was akin to touching again the womb of earth from where all life came. It was like returning from the source. Each time I planted a seedling and touched the earth, there was an essence of gratitude coming from me. I mumbled “Thank you” while being aware of the texture of earth and how the leaves of the seedlings looked like, even if the plant’s name was unknown to me. I planted nine seedlings to be exact. Nonetheless, each of them is a prayer of my soul, and a moment for each is my contemplation on the purpose of my life.

I looked again at each tree seedling. They didn’t smile like humans, yet their fragile leaves and delicate stems showed promising wonders of growth. They were once seeds buried beneath the soil, waiting for the first leaf to come. Now, they have grown, and soon will become the bearer of life, together embracing the earth and reaching the heavens. One after the other, these seedlings planted in this watershed will become the trees of this future forest.

They are seedlings bringing, not just the dream of the trees, but the dreams of the earthworms crawling this underground paradise to nourish their home. The seedlings bring in the dreams of the cicadas, so they can sing again in chorus once more. Years from now, the dreams of the birds to nest again will come true, when the small stems of these seedlings will become strong branches. In the cycle of time, leaves grow, then fall, then grow back again, as these seedlings turn into trees to provide canopy. The sun dreams to shine its rays between the spaces of those leaves, radiating gentle light. The wind dreams to cruise its breeze through the same spaces, blowing serenely. The cloud dreams to pass its fluffy masses through the trees so it can bring benign fogs and refreshing raindrops. The flowers dream to bloom in peace, while the ferns dream to unfurl in silence. The spider dreams to weave its web in quietness, and the butterfly dreams to fly in freedom. In this intricate green universe, they are all intertwined in the soulful dream of the forest. And I am happy to be part of making this dream come true.

And I can see that the seedlings are also dreams beyond. There are seedlings of hope for people who want to see the seedlings as grown trees someday. There are seedlings of friendships among people who meet for the first time, to partake in this significant event. There are seedlings of joy and laughter sprouting in every soul in every moment. These unseen seedlings are beginning to grow, and soon become a forest of possibilities.

Before the day ended, my friends and I went to Makiling Botanical Gardens, almost an hour away from Caliraya. Half an hour before the garden closed, a female friend went to see some trees. I saw her hug a tree, like that of a kid hugging a long lost mother. We weren’t able to stay longer, yet savoring every life that breathes in that place— the sounds, coolness, foliage create a dream eternally rejuvenating the life in my heart. I knew, deep within, that those small seedlings planted at the Caliraya Watershed will soon become a forest, a refuge where all of nature’s dreams are nurtured.

In those moments throughout that day, I saw that green is the color of Love.