A Moment of Silence

In light of the tragedy that severely affected millions of Filipinos in the central Philippines brought by the strongest typhoon (hurricane) ever recorded to hit land, and in solidarity with those who are suffering, Solitude Rising will be silent for the whole month of November. Posts that were suppose to be published this November will appear in December instead.

Super Typhoon Haiyan over the Philippines on November 9, 2013 as imaged from Earth orbit by NASA Astronaut Karen Nyberg aboard the International Space Station.Category 5 killer storm Haiyan stretches across the entire photo from about 250 miles (400 kilometer) altitude. Credit: NASA/Karen Nyberg

Photo and caption were taken from www.universetoday.com. Article title: "Super-Typhoon Haiyan Causes Catastrophic Death & Destruction – Space Images from NASA, ISRO, Roscosmos & ISS"

Imported

"Wow imported!" --- is a common exclamation we hear in the Philippines when we see something that is not locally produced. Somehow there is this deep-seated fixation for anything that comes from abroad. An exception to this would be any kind of pests or diseases :)

Even in gardening, some gardeners easily succumb to the desire of acquiring a newly introduced breed of plant. Having a little of such mentality myself, I thought I'd send some non-native vegetable and other garden seeds back home and see if they would successfully grow in our farm with this crazy idea that maybe we would be the first to produce these vegetables locally. Well not really, I just wanted to experiment and see which of these imported seeds would grow in our farm.

Below are a few of the seed samples I sent home that they tried growing in the farm.

Zucchini squash (Cucurbita pepo). Some sprouted but some didn't. Those that grew rotted after a few days. Maybe they were sown during the wetter days. It's still worth another try although I've read that it's already commercially grown locally.

Packets of Zucchini squash seeds.

Birdhouse gourd (Lagenaria siceraria Birdhouse). I wasn't sure about the success of this plant because from what I read and seen on TV it needs the aid of certain night moths to pollinate the delicate flowers that open only at night and only for one night.

It grew! It climbed the trellis, flowers developed and produced young gourds. So there are night moths in the farm! Alas, the gourds did not mature, the plant rotted. Again I blame it on the rainy weather. But the fact that it produced fruits means that it can grow in our area, so it's also worth another try.

Young Birdhouse gourds hanging on a trellis.

Unlike the local vegetable "Upo" this gourd will produce a thick and hard shell, which can be fashioned into a birdhouse, a vessel to carry water and many other purposes. I was thinking if we succeed on this we could help our local community develop a backyard industry in producing handicrafts made of this gourd's tough shell.

Butternut squash (Cucurbita moschata). I love this squash. It has the same taste and texture as the squash I like back in the Philippines but it doesn't look like any of the locally grown squash.

A young Butternut squash.

And it also grew! They let it crawl on the ground which then produced several baby Butternuts. Most didn't mature though. Another victim of the wet days. Like the song of the late 80's duo Milli Vanili, I blame it on the rain.

But all was not lost. They were able to harvest one squash each from the two seeds they sowed. And the verdict? They like its unique look and most of all they loved the taste. Definitely worth another try!

We had a very short summer this year, around three months. Even in those supposedly 'dry' months rain would intermittently soak the ground. The growing season for these plants is definitely over this year. My eyes are already set for a more normal summer next year. For the mean time, I'm out scouring garden stores for more seeds for next year's garden experiment.
tropical garden Tropical Garden tropical garden Tropical Garden

It never rains but it pours

It's been a month since my last blog entry. There was not much to report for November since the farm and garden is still staggering from the lingering effects of a couple of wicked weather disturbances that visited our area.

After a devastating storm last October, a week-long and non-stop heavy rain poured down during the first few days of November.

The constant rain was not the result of any storm. It was simply due to a weather phenomenon called Inter-tropical Convergence Zone (ITCZ). It is not an unusual weather occurrence, what's unusual was the amount of rain it brought down this time. It flooded much of the low-lying areas of the northeastern part of the country.

The water in the picture is not a river but a flood submerging large swath of farmlands. This was the view from our farm of the town down below.

The rivers swelled and overflowed their banks due to excessive amount of water coming down from the surrounding mountains. As a result, it drowned farmlands and other low-lying areas. Our farm and garden sits on an elevated section of a valley so we were not directly affected by the huge flood even though we have a major river as a next door neighbor.

Indirectly, the flood affected us too. The carpenters we hired to build a new shelter for the sheep were unable to come because their homes were submerged by the flood and so had to attend to their own needs first. As a result our poor sheep were exposed to the elements the whole time the sky was weeping and wailing.

The young Boer/Kalahari Red buck hybrid (right) bought 4 months ago died of pneumonia along with seven other goats.

The sheep, however, are resilient creatures. They were able to survive nature's direct assault. I wish I could say the same for our goats. Eight goats including the young male Boer I asked my parents to buy died of pneumonia. The continuous wet weather, high temperature, high humidity and cramped living conditions may have contributed to their untimely demise.

It is now early December but the strong rain still keeps coming and going, a very sharp contrast from just a year ago.

The farm is still healing from the deep wounds inflicted by the October cyclone. With so many things to do and so few workers (no budget to hire more), the farm is just barely crawling towards normalcy. It's been over a month now since the storm and yet there is still no electricity. They're relying on a 4 Hp. generator which we had to buy because of this long and continuous power outage. It is only used a few hours in the evening and switched off before bedtime to conserve on fuel.

On the brighter side, Mom said it's like spring in the farm, the surviving leafless trees are sprouting new leaves.

Solitude stumbles

October 17, 2010, a day to be remembered for however long it takes to forget it.

Super typhoon Megi (local name "Juan"), an equivalent of Category 5 hurricane in the USA, makes a landfall in our province and plowed through the land. With wind strength of over 250kph (156mph), it moved at a very slow speed of 10kph. Our town was very near the eye of the storm.

For several hours the howling wind battered the farm taking with it whatever is not securely fastened to the ground. The initial survey of the damage was just unbelievable. As of this writing it is late evening there and although the wind has subsided a little, the rain is now pouring hard. I wish I could say it's raining cats and dogs, but that is an understatement. It's also raining cows and goats and sheep and ... you know what I mean.

Initial survey of the damage include:

• A huge part of the "great wall" collapsed.
• The picket fence around the nursery is gone.
• A significant part of the ostrich fence is damaged.
• The plants on the ground are either uprooted or humbled and bowed down.
• The plants on plastic containers are strewn around.
• The mango trees are either limbless, leaning or fallen.
• The mahogany trees are bare of leaves.
• The tall Royal palms are leafless.
• The trellises for the climbing vines (Red Jades, etc.) are down.
• The shelter for the sheep is gone.
• The hut at the top of the hill is nowhere to be found.
• The kitchen door of our house broke in two.

Despite the damage to properties, I'm just relieved that my loved ones are unharmed. And that is more important than anything else.

Solitude stumbled and fell. But in time it will rise again. It will rise again.

You never miss the water till the well runs dry

Deep into 'El Niño' and the dessicated land is crying out for moisture. But the clear blue sky is an indication that no rain will fall any time soon. The plants are showing signs of stress from the heat and lack of water. The grass fields where the sheep forage are turning brown.

The sheep are foraging for some green grass on a brown landscape.

In my 'Hot child in the city' post, I mentioned that our water sources are still OK, but that's no longer the case. The shallow wells and watering holes where water naturally wells up from under the ground are either dry or drying up. These are our only source of water for the plants in the upper part of the garden. In some holes where water is still flowing up from beneath the ground, the flow has slowed down to a trickle, and so the supply could not meet the huge demand.

Prolonged drought has forced us to use water from the river to water the plants in the upper garden.

Desperate situation requires desperate action. To save the plants from completely withering they decided to turn to the river for water. The river may be adjacent to the garden but the problem is it's quite a long way down a cliff to get there. Hauling several huge plastic barrels into a jeep they drive a few minutes down into the side of the river, fill the barrels with water and drive back up to the garden. This laborious task is done twice a day just so the thirsty plants in the garden could take a drink.

One of the plastic barrels under a tree. There are several barrels placed at different areas of the upper garden. They are constantly filled with water used for watering the plants.

The upper garden is still sparsely planted and there are few more plants in the nursery waiting to be transplanted. But the lack of rain, and now ground water, dictates that they remain in the nursery at least until the rainy season comes.

Note:
El Niño is a weather phenomenon that causes drought and extreme heat in some parts of the world and severe rain and flood in other places.

Hot child in the city

"Hot child in the city, young child
Running wild and looking pretty
Young child, running wild
Hot child in the city...."
("Hot Child in the City" by Nick Gilder)

"El Niño" is in the middle of a hissy fit.

This weather phenomenon is bringing extremely hot weather not only in the city, but in the countryside as well. And there's no relief in sight.

Our province has been declared under a state of calamity due to the drought's widespread damage to rice and corn crops. The fields, already bone dry, are still baking under the unrelenting heat of the sun.

The farm is faring a little better so far. Well, primarily because we don't have crops that require extensive irrigation. But we do have plants and animals that need daily rations of water in order to survive.

One of the few holes in the ground where water naturally accumulates (image take summer '09).

Fortunately, the few watering holes are still accumulating ground water and the (not so) deep wells have been retrofitted with hand pumps to make fetching of water easier and safer. The little spring where they get their water for household use is still flowing.

The ditch that runs across the farm is a different story though. I was told it's currently dry. I had a lofty plan for this ditch, and that is to turn it into a water garden. But now that I know it does dry up, I have to rethink about my planned water garden.

The ditch flowing during the summer of 2009.

I took the picture above of the ditch in late May of 2009. Though it hasn't rained for months, as you can see water was still flowing. But now, it's only the middle of February and nary a trickle flows. I know the "El Niño" phenomenon is only temporary, but a water garden needs a permanent soaking of water.

So does that mean my plan for a water garden is dead? Not at all. Ditch or no ditch, a water garden will someday rise from the dust.

Dodge the bullet

What a weekend. I may have been physically safe from the typhoon but emotionally I was not. I was constantly monitoring the turn of events back home knowing that my loved ones were in danger of being hit by the raging storm.

But the weather disturbance veered northward just before it hit land, sparing our province from its most destructive force. Talking to mom last night, I learned that there was no damage in the farm, only a few fallen branches and plants. In fact, electricity was quickly restored and the sun was already out and shining bright.

I thank the Lord for sparing us from damage, but not a cause to celebrate knowing that many others bore the brunt of the storm's rage.

When it rains, it pours... again

The farm may have been left unharmed by storm Ketsana ("Ondoy"), but this time it may not dodge the whip of typhoon Parma ("Pepeng").

Parma is expected to touch down on the east side of northern Luzon. Based on the latest forecast our region lies in direct path of this strong typhoon. It may not pack as much water as Ketsana did but the wind it brings is a punch far stronger. And this wind is what we're most afraid of.

Yesterday the typhoon was still far away but it has eerily announced its presence. The rustling of the leaves and the creaking sound of the branches as they vigorously sway, the dark and heavy cloud staring down are but tell-tale signs of rougher days ahead.

The farm sits at a higher edge of a valley so severe rain will not cause any immediate danger. The lower plains however, may flood and water will inundate the farmlands, drowning whatever crop is in season. The wind may topple trees and plants, it may blow away roofs of houses and animal shelters, bring down power lines and other utility structures.

Bruised and aching, the farm will weather the brunt of the storm. However those who will be severely affected are the cause of concern. With the government resources stretched too thin, expedient help is not to be expected. Even the local government's track record in emergency aid is disconsolate. We can only hope for a lower number of casualties.

The local people are in for a one, two punch (strong typhoon and government inefficiency). Pray for us all.

When it rains, it pours

It may be a few more days before I could get a copy of the pictures from the farm. My brother has just returned to Manila and he's got more pressing stuff to do than sit down in front of the computer to e-mail me the pictures.

While he was in the farm, storm Ketsana ("Ondoy") devastated Metro Manila and submerged over 80% of the capital region in deep and filthy flood. Unfortunately, my brother's house was not spared. Chaos made it impossible to travel to and out of the metropolis for several days. Now that he's back home, he faces the daunting task of cleaning up the mess inside their house courtesy of the storm.

The strong rain also poured down continuously for two days in the farm. My mother said it was like there's no tomorrow. But since the storm was not packing strong winds, just heavy precipitation, the plants were left unscathed.

Its been several days of sunshine now, but there's something brewing in the horizon... two of them.