Global Worming

Back when I took our licensure examination, there was an essay question about logging, which was a big issue during those days. We were asked to side with or against it. Being fresh out of college and filled with idealism and belief in my chosen profession, I molded my answer around the idea of conservation and sustainability through proper management and utilization. That is a mouthful for Silviculture.

Naturally, my companions were aghast when I told them my choice. Being pro-environment and anti-logging was the rage in those days. Most considered my act as traitorous and misguided. What they could not fathom was that my love for nature goes deeper than books, examinations, friends, and fads. I certainly would feel comfortable living in the Stone Age but that is not an option for most of the earth’s population.

In a similar light, global warming and greenhouse gases were a hot topic ten to fifteen years ago, incriminating highly industrialized countries. The recent convention on global warming has brought the subject again to the limelight, with countries on the fast-tract to development like China as the new culprits. People talk of halting global warming at all cost for the survival of mankind. However, like with total log ban, I have my doubts. Let us ruminate on the following thoughts:

1. Global warming as part of evolution.

We often think in terms of man as the center of the universe and forget that we are only a minuscule part of it. If the human species is a result of evolution, what makes us think that we have stopped evolving? The same is true with our home. The earth has gone more of phases than we can remember. There a possibility that global warming and its aftermath is part of a larger design.

2. Humans adapt to their environment

We can find humans in almost every corner of the earth, from blazing deserts to frozen tundras. We are that tough and resilient. Our activities that produces the most greenhouse gases, industrialization and production, fuels researches and advances in technology. Somehow, mankind will find ways to adapt and survive a changing world. To put it another way, what if we still evolve despite all efforts to contain Global Warming and sacrificing technological development as a consequence? Do we face an uncertain future with canoes and paddles?

3. Green plants needs greenhouse gases

The biggest component of green house grasses is Carbon Dioxide. We learned in our high school science class that green plants needs CO2 to produce food. In short: lots of raw materials + warmer climate = bountiful harvests.

4. Waterworld is just a movie.

Some scientist guesses that global warming will causes oceans to rise by meters. Others contend it will do so only by centimeters. Considering both opinions, I don’t think that we will ever see a waterworld happening to this planet. Sure, a few low-lying island can disappear but, like I said before, maybe it’s just part of another phase in our evolution and we can quickly adapt to it.

EDIT:

This blog has been transfered to pebbleworm.blogspot.com. Thank you.

A worm’s resolution…

Adieu 2006! Welcome 2007! We’ve got a full year ahead of us. I’m wondering if I’ll still be up to my neck in the same rotten mess or maybe plow through a new heap of decomposing dregs discarded by humanity. Whew! What’s with the gloomy outlook? For one, we still got a number of fingers blown off in welcoming the New Year. Good news was there were a lesser number of cases compared to last year, bad news was most of them were kids.

 

Good news is we are going to have a chance to ditch our environmentally-handicapped leaders this coming May election. Bad news is who we are going to replace them with? If we review the performance of our leaders for the past six years, most of them will have a red tick beside the line that says “environmental responsibility.” For most of them, the environmental flag is something you wave when people line up to drop their ballots. It’s no surprise that being “environmental” has become the in thing to do with political wannabes in the past year.

 

Most of them conveniently disregard the reality that caring for nature and the environment is not a one shot affair. It requires long term commitment and years of hard work. They overlook the fact that the fruits of our present efforts will be harvested by future generations, not the present crop of voters. So what is it this time? Out with the old worms and in with the new ones?

 

I have resolved that we have to turn a new leaf for 2007, so to speak. I will definitely exercise my power for a more environment-friendly future in politics. That is, if they’ll allow me to vote since I was not able to beat the deadline for registration. Well, new leaf or not, a worm’s always a worm…

Decomposing the Green Philippine Highways Program…

August 25, 2006 was D-Day. No, it’s not Normandy happening all over again and the ideals this time was nowhere as lofty as waving the flag of freedom against the face of oppression. It was more mundane, specifically getting into the Guinness book of world records. Secretary Angelo Reyes has proposed the Green Philippines Highways Program (GPHP) and it was launched on that date. His intentions, uniting the whole Philippines regardless of age, creed, and social standing in support of a nation-wide program to plant trees along major thoroughfares, were admirable but its implementation was probably the most chaotic in the history of the Department of Environment and Natural Resources.

Was the launching of the program a success? If the aim of GPHP was to set the record of the most number of trees planted simultaneously, then it did just that and was a winner. On the other hand, if we consider its supposed goal of providing a welcome shade along highways for commuters and a sink for pollutants spewed by their vehicles results, then three months after launching, the results are very telling.  Seedling mortality — number of death in a given population– was high and the launching day has left a bitter aftertaste among implementers.

So what went wrong?  It was not more a question of wrongs as it is a question of rights. Basically, the only thing that went right with the program was the idea. There was just nothing to support that seed and nurture it to fruition. The Secretary was good soldier and an exceptional general but this one just did not bore his trademarks.

 
The basic premises of planning battles was disregarded

In his ancient treatise on war, Sun Tzu wrote about defeating the enemy even before the battle began. One way to accomplish this is to properly plan any campaign in advance. The plan for the GPHP before its implementation is haphazard at best, non-existent at most. Three months after launching, there is still no concrete and comprehensive plan for the supposed five years of its duration. 

 
The aim was off the target by a mile

You hit what you aim for. The goal of GPHP should be sustainability, making sure those seedlings will become trees and perform their intended functions. Instead, too much emphasis was put on setting a world record for the most number of seedlings planted in one setting. Stakeholders and implementers thought August 25 was GPHP and went about their usual routine after it was done.

 
First and foremost is discipline

Most military men had heard this admonition at least once: Keep It Simple Stupid! Too many of the Secretary’s lieutenants wanted to push their own ideas on what should be done for GPHP.  A week before, on D-day itself, and right after the launching, contradicting instructions kept coming from HQ. The result was bedlam.

 
Partisan politics and service don’t mix

Professional soldiers disdain politicks for it can divide the ranks. Secretary Reye’s aspirations to serve his country as a senator was running the rumor network even before he was tapped to head the department. The average Juan, Maria, and Pedro simply refused to exert their best efforts for GPHP because they believe it was just a cover for the Secretary’s politicking.

 

Timing is everything

The Nazi’s winter war in the eastern front was timed to use the frozen ground to their panzers’ advantage but they were not prepared for the frigid Russian winter or the steely determination of desperate men.  The GPHP was launched at the end of the summer season, in one of the dry months. In addition, most of the seedlings were not properly hardened before planting along the highway where they were exposed to the scorching sun and wilted within days.

A worm’s fishy story

And then there was that time a HUGE fish got away. Alright, I am getting ahead of my story. A distant uncle of mine was insisting that he once hooked a great moray eel twice my height (I’m 5 feet 10 inches tall) and around eight finger-breadths in diameter. The clincher was, it got away. Well, we all know how fishermen sometimes are. Even I have been guilty of an overly active imagination when it comes to fishing. Since we will be staying with his family for two days, I decided to run down his story.

 

“Kid,” I called to my nephew after my uncle has strayed far enough, “will you take me fishing for moray eel?” The 12 year old rascal flashed me a toothy grin along with a chirpy nod. So off we went. It was midmorning by then with the blazing sun at 10 o’clock. The kid handed me a paddle and motioned for me to follow him. It’s been like a quarter of a century since I last used a paddle so I spent the rest of the morning refreshing my skills. By midafternoon, I was red as a lobster from the waist up.

 

After a practice run of a mile up and down the coast, the kid was finally satisfied I won’t turn around in circles or capsize the frail little craft they call an outrigger canoe. Very well, I can already paddle and we can go catch a mighty eel. “We’ve got to find some nightcrawlers first,” quipped the kid. Gee, the sun was still out and what in heaven’s name are we going to do with worms?

 

Okay, in order to catch an eel, we need fishes for bait and we need the worms to catch the fishes, sixteen in all. A bit confusing but that’s the way it goes. Why sixteen? Because there are sixteen large wicked-looking hooks attached to a length of fishing line. It’s not a fishing line really but a small diameter nylon rope and the hooks were attached to it with thin wires.

 

We marched to a little creek after digging-up half a can of worms, the kid up front and my precious 7-year-old trailing behind me. Now, I’ve got to stick a tiny hook into one of the slimy, wriggly creatures. After three passes and a near prick, I was finally able to bait my line. I threw my line, holding on to one end of course, into the creek and slowly reeled it in. Then snap! I felt the teeny tug and gave my line a deft pull. A shiny silver fish four finger-breadths in length was yanked out of the water, flew through the air, and flopped to the ground, with my daughter squealing all the way. I got the hang of it pretty easily and soon we have the requisite number of fishes for bait.

 

We quickly marched back to the house where the kid expertly impaled the fishes on the hooks strung along the fishing line for moray eels. The sun was already low and tinting the horizon a ruddy red when we set out on the frail craft. Don’t get me wrong, I love the sea but only when I’m out of it. We were venturing into the deep and my imagination started working overtime. First I peered down through a greenish haze into a sandy bottom, and then the water turned a deep blue-green, finally, nothing but the dark blue deep. I swore strange creatures lurked beneath our little canoe. I didn’t want to look foolish to a 12-year-old kid so I just stared ahead and kept paddling until he motioned for me to stop.

 

Seemed like that we have reached THE spot. Why that spot was different from all the other spots in that vast expanse of water was beyond my comprehension. Like a meek puppy, I just sat nervously gripping the side of the canoe, fearful that my slightest movement would tip us over into the waiting jaws of any monstrosity loitering underneath. The kid reeled out the line while I held my breath and silently called on all saints to keep us steady. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, the kid threw out the floater — a large piece of Styrofoam, settled himself in the prow, and nodded for me to turn our craft around and start paddling for shore. I was often accused of being a laggard but not this time.

 

I tried to remember everything I’ve read about focusing chi and I imagined every ounce of mystical energy in my body going down my two hands and into the paddle. My concentration was total on making swift but graceful strokes and soon the water turned from dark blue, blue-green, and, finally, sandy bottom. We reached the shore just as darkness blanketed everything and the first stars timidly blinked high up. It was a long night of anticipation and apprehension. There was also that nagging thought on what if the tide or waves carried the floater away, taking along the fishing line?

 

The following morning, we were up just as the sun was about to great a new day with his dazzling smile. Everybody was caught up in the excitement of a huge catch. Even our little tot was already up and clambering about the sand. We lost no time in dragging the canoe out into the water. Again, there was greenish sandy bottom, blue-green waters, and the dark blue deep. The kid caught the floater and reeled in the line.

 

The first hook appeared with the bait intact, then the second and the third. Farther down the line, the baits showed marks of being grabbed and eaten but every empty hook we brought in waned our excitement. Finally, the final hook was in view with no moray eel in tow. However, the bait was stripped from this one with the wire loosely wound in a circle. The kid remarked that something must have fought hard to free itself from the hook. It must indeed be an immense slimy eel, I imagined.

 

This time I slowly paddled back to shore, disappointed that we didn’t caught even a teeny eel to brag about. That feeling was overshowed by the relief that we didn’t have to deal with the monster that got away. At least, I’ve got a story to tell.

a worm’s nature…

All things are artificial for nature is the art of God.

The words were printed across the front of my friend’s black shirt, discreet white letters arcing over a small tree. Unexpectedly, it kind of hit me in the face for it summarized my philosophies in life. When I was younger, I headed off to the bushes to look for spiders when other kids were comfortably cocooned in front of their TV sets, I float down a nearby river in my makeshift raft when other kids headed for air-conditioned malls, I go fly a kite in a stiff breeze under a stifling sun while other kids were content to play their little video games in the shade.

Nature was all about beauty and simplicity, about finding and relishing life’s simple pleasures, about freedom from modern complexities and entanglements. Alas, nobody could remain a child forever. I left my raft, my spiders, and my kites behind. I was enmeshed in the pettiness and insecurities of the real world, world where I vied and toiled for a teeny-weeny space under the sun.

Fortunately, I was still free to dream and sometimes, when lady fortune bestowed one of her dazzling smiles, these dreams became true. Every now and then, I was able to indulge in nature’s bounty. Like the time I stared in awe at the deep blackness of a great chamber hollowed out of a small hill by water over millennias. Or when I was standing on the rim of a volcano, wondering at the force that hurled rocks the size of small buildings into the air to land where they now rest. Or when I was gazing at a majestic Philippine eaglet in its natural habitat. Ah, only a few could be so lucky.

Eventually, I perceived that even mundane affairs could reflect nature’s grandeur. A sunset, a child’s smile, fresh fish simply grilled, a loved one’s caress, I have savored such pleasures everyday and there is nothing spurious about them. I only have to open my heart and free my mind for nature is inside me.