Garden in the rain
WATER is truly the staff of life. How well did we know it during the El Niño weather phenomenon that we went through from the end of last year to just about last month until the first rains. Slowly, the rainy season has come back to us, though in some provinces, it’s not coming back fast enough.
The effect on agriculture was massive losses of crops. The countryside landscape turned brown, and green became a minority color. Members of my household got news that the animals in the provinces were lean and hungry, the rivers had receded to low levels never seen before, and everything was having a hard time growing.
I went out of town in late April, taking with me a dismal picture of my garden — grass burnt to a crisp or dead altogether, yellowing leaves on flowering bushes and ornamental plants, bare earth in some parts. Perennial flowering plants were not bringing up any blooms. Even the Doña Aurora, the sturdy and industrious musaena bush, lost its leaves and showed signs of distress. With a water shortage looming, one cannot, in good conscience, be watering a whole garden, particularly the grass. It has to be selective watering in minimal amounts to keep life going in consonance with the rainless season. So, the garden was left to the elements.
To my dismay, when I returned a month later, the scene was worse, as there had been no rain, temperatures had escalated, and the length of El Niño had taken its toll. Only the mature trees seemed to stand their ground of looking the same, even if in want. Thank goodness for them. They give shade, lower temperature and help fight air pollution. The mango tree produced fruits, the macopa came up with a small number and even the pili tree had some nuts. And the Palawan cherry tree bloomed in pink and white as usual. The catmon tree kept on producing large star-shaped white flowers and small green fruit. Trees are the saving grace, beautiful to behold. It is unfortunate that they are wantonly cut down for what some surmise is their convenience (no more falling leaves to sweep off).
Finally, the rains are here having arrived in the last few weeks. It took a number of downpours to revive the garden, but happily it did. The Doña Aurora has burst into a bush of ivory flowers, a striking image turning a part of the garden into a spectacle of white. In keeping with the return of rain, the Melendres bushes of pink blooms have transformed themselves into a pink cloud. And finally, the gardenia bushes which showed distressful yellow leaves turned green and came up with bushels of flowers. Gardenia, known as rosal here, an oriental plant known and loved the world over, has flowers of white petals, small green glossy leaves and emits a fragrant perfume that captivates. When I came to my garden upon moving to Mandaluyong, there was one small gardenia bush that would bloom upon the first rains. It gave us such joy that we planted three more. They grew well immediately, but the flowers took time to come. So, for a long while only the original bush would bloom. But after a few years, the new ones in response to rain after a long, dry season also burst into bloom at the same time. So every year after the first rains, gardenias and more gardenias come forth every day. One household member believes that thunderstorms are the compelling factor for them to bloom in quantity. So, daily for the whole month of June, we have been harvesting bucketsful of gardenias. I have shared them with relatives and friends who suddenly remember them from childhood because gardenias seem to have been replaced by other newer, more fashionable flowering plants. I tell them that they can bloom in pots in apartments or places of limited space as long as watered and exposed to some sunlight. Gardenias are worth the effort.
Now to attend to the gumamelas, the sampaguita bush and the orchids under trees. The time is right because the rains are here.