As a young girl, my family lived on the farm.
Our first house was surrounded by trees.
There was a stream nearby.
I was told that my father planted a coconut tree for each of us children around the house.
We moved when I was a few months old.
But the family continued working on the farms.
It’s a source of livelihood.
Most times when I had a vacation I saw to it that I visited the farm.
It was refreshing.
It brought back my childhood memories.
Also, it kept me grounded.
Let me tour you to my birthplace.
The weather on that day I visited the farm 4 months ago.
We needed to pass through the Parsua River.
It was dry at that time.
During rainy season though, nobody can pass through this river.
Everything stops here.
The small river with taro plants and water spinach.
The water lilies.
My girls had fun walking on the rice paddies.
My older sister and our great grandson.
We needed to cross another small river using the bamboo bridge.
After traversing the river over the bamboo bridge were the plants.
The Corn field.
The bamboo grass.
The moringa tree.
The farm equipments.
And the small hut is at the middle of the farm.
Before we reached the hut though, we crossed another stream.
This dog guards the place.
The hut was surrounded with vegetables.
The green beans.
One or two cows.
These meant a lot of hard work for my brother and his family.
And at times, harvest is not also good.
Especially the palay (unhusked rice).
If the place is visited by strong storms, they harvest nothing.
Me and my older sister visiting the ricefield.