It
must be summer; I’m certain of the time. Those were the only times I remember I
could live with extended time in the embrace of – nature. The river runs wild,
trees thrives towards the skies while grass and flowers blooms freely. It was
where birds soar to the heavens unmolested singing their chirpy songs of
freedom.
I
must be no older than 9 because in later years; I would engage the summer in
more enterprising ways. I shine shoes in the market – call it my regular source
of income but when opportunities came along; I would sell fruits in the
sidewalk or vended peanuts, cigarettes, candies and PX (brand of chewing gum) at
political rallies. Wherever there was
gathering of people for reasons I could care less; I would engage the crowd in
an enterprising way.
Lumbayan-a-Gui
is a small village that can be reached (then) by walking less than 2 km from
the highway. The unpaved road was always muddy. The village name literally
means “where tall-grasses blossoms.”
The
story is long the narrative of which I have already laid down in my book of how
we came to live in this village of not so many houses. The following narrative happened
long after we have abandoned the fields of green grasses that blossom to a
man’s height, fields of corn and shrubs of wild sunflowers.
My
eldest brother married to the village prompting him to make it his home. We
would come to spend weekends and in summer; we would spend longer time helping
him to tend to his farm and graze the animals especially Philippine’s
quintessential beast of burden – the water buffalo.
I
left my beast to graze but always at a stone throw away in case the animal
saunter to the newly cultivated corn fields. Idling the time away; I would aim
my slingshot to any object I fancied that crosses my field of vision but birds
- that would be a dream shot for a budding hunter of my age. It was late
afternoon. Birds; many of them were hopping in short flights between grasses. They
were near and far constantly in motion, hopping, always in flight – a moving
target that was hard to hit.
I
froze; I thought I hate one. With adrenaline rising – I ran towards my fallen
prey leaping over the grasses. I have never been so thrilled in my entire life
– at least of what I have lived of it so far that moment something like 8 or 9
years. Anyway; my excitement was indescribable – euphoric will be more
appropriate.
The
grasses blossomed to about 2 feet in heights. It took only few minutes to find
what I thought was my first hunting trophy but my thrills turned to – horror.
Caught between the stems of the grasses that I needed to nudge aside was a tiny
bird with a broken wing. My heart sunk to a halt; I thought my heart skipped a
bit from absolute grief. It was moving. It was alive. Gently; I picked it up. Probably
in shock; it showed no resistance to my handling. It was so fragile I thought I
will hurt it even further by a simple touch. I held it in my palm like I was
holding water that will slip off between my fingers. It was the cutest thing I
ever held in my hand. Except for the broken wing; I could see no other injuries.
If I take it home – I thought; it would certainly die.
Growing
at both sides of the country road were wild sunflowers that were so adapted to
the climate; it bloomed so wildly beyond human heights and in clusters creating
undergrowth one can actually take shelter under it. Lanao is most probably
Philippine’s wettest province. It is no myth that if you cast the seed of the
fruit you eat in your backyard; few days later - you will find it growing.
I
waved aside the sunflower’s thick foliage and crept under
the shrubs. With so many insects and tiny worms in the undergrowth; my tiny
bird will have a better chance to survive without the benefit of flight. With the
foliage serving as a canopy; it will have further protection from the elements
of nature. I wanted to nourish it back to health and I knew that only nature
can provide the healing.
Every
morning; I would wave aside some of the flowers and look in the undergrowth. The
bird with the broken wing seems to be recovering fast hopping among the
Flowers’s overgrown branches. The third day; It wasn’t there. I searched the ground
for what I hope I will not find; a dead bird. I like to believe that since
there was no body of evidence; it fully recovered and have taken flight to
freedom.
The
horrific experience was a turning point in my childhood because it would
unconsciously define what I would eventually become.
NK
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