But did you ever wonder how the plaza looks on one sunny and normal day? Involve yourself in the beauty of Bogo Plaza through this blog as I share with you the natural feature of the place I really like the most—its landscape.
Without lights and Christmassy decorations, the main thing that glows in the plaza is its landscape of trees and greenery on the ground. When I visited the plaza a month ago, I was in high amazement to see it on a sunny day where the leaves of the trees crust on me and called my presence to get to know them in a way I have already imagined.
At first, I was hesitant to look at the trees closer than usual because I was afraid to look weird to the passersby taking photos of the trees without any purpose, based on their primary recognition. Honestly, the landscape and my urge to touch the trees gently made me feel the want to visit the place again and again and experience the least experienced thing in the plaza, which is to appreciate the landscape and give meaning to it.
Upon arriving, I saw the usual features—the green scenery above and the people on the ground making the most of the present moment. Warm, brown, and fleeting, this is what the plaza gives you if you learn to stop and notice it without any expectations and ideals.
When I entered the plaza, I immediately approached this Fire Tree or Delonix regia in scientific name. Growing bright and proud, Delonix regia is a tree popular for its breathtaking feature of fiery red-orange blooms that color the landscape during the months of summer in the Philippines. It is often called the "Flame Tree," as it symbolizes passion and energy wherever the tree grows, and now a symbol of ardent love in the plaza of Bogo. This tree originates from Madagascar, according to my research, and can thrive in tropical climates like in our country.
The most interesting thing about this tree is that it presents us with a very dramatic canopy of flowers, one like from the movie Brave, before the leaves appear, making it a testament to life and natural color. But since it is not summer when I took the photos, ypu cant see what I am saying. For many Filipinos, seeing Fire Tree blooms is our pure signal that the start of summer commences and that the warmth of the season is fast approaching.
I don’t solely admire the tree of Banaba, which is abundant in our neighborhood, because of its vibrant purple blossoms that grace roads and corners in our town, but also because it is significant in the traditional medicine of Filipinos.
I remember drinking tea from its leaves every time I got a fever in my childhood, and my mother would tell me that she brewed the leaves into tea to help me regulate blood sugar and some parts of my health. When it blooms, its lavender flowers dance like a soft rain—as in, I see it that way personally—as it adds a touch of gentleness and grace to the environment whenever someone sees it.
I saw little creatures homing to this Banaba as I took photos. These ants were busy doing their business as night was fast approaching. Their little, tiny world reminds me of my limitation as a human—that we share the world with these creatures, big or small, and the only thing we should do to help them is to give respect to their territories.
Just behind the tree of Banaba, I saw an Ilang-ilang tree. This one is usually celebrated for its intoxicatingly sweet fragrance—a scent that has captivated both locals and national perfumers around the globe. Its name is derived from the Tagalog word meaning “flower of flowers.”
Ilang-ilang oil is used in expensive perfumes, and I remember how often my grandfather shared about the cost of ilang-ilang and how businesses consistently profit from it without giving some sustainable action in return to promote awareness of this tree.
Aside from its role in the perfume industry, Ilang-ilang holds a dear place in my heart, as in Filipino culture, it is a symbol of love and purity—and to me, a nostalgia and memory of my beloved grandfather.
The last one I saw on the plaza that had a label under it was Talisay or the iconic Terminalia catappa. Talisay has this unique character when it comes to shedding—its leaves turn into gold before falling, and it is one of the best phenomena I have ever heard about a tree. Sometimes it turns red, and the leaves vanish with those that have already fallen on the ground and, if fortunate, are swayed by the winds until they reach another crowd of dried leaves.
The Talisay tree is often found in areas near the coast, serving as a standby area or meeting place in my experience. This tree also has a fruit that falls on the ground, and when found, you can see a brown, oblong fruit dried up on the ground. We crack it open using stones and eat the nut-like thing inside. It won’t make us full, but the enjoyment of searching for it and the journey of cracking it is. Since it has a wide-spreading crown that offers comfort to the passersby against the heat index, it is titled as an umbrella tree here in our town. I did my research about this tree, and interestingly, its leaves and seeds have medicinal benefits that can be used to cure diseases of the skin. That’s Talisay—and this one is also part of my childhood.
I tried to search for more trees in the plaza that had labels on them so that I could name them and search about them, but only four of them had been labeled so far. I guess these trees have something to do with the origin of the plaza or of the city. Who knows?
I just wandered continuously around the benches and saw this man appreciating the beauty of the area. The light was striking him, but it didn’t bother him as he tried to make sense of it.
I also saw these trees with a plant marcot on them that I can’t name. Do you know what this is? I would like to know it in the comment section, so feel free to drop your guess.
And anyway, I always take photos of the tree from the bottom before the upper part because it is always on the root that something wonderful starts. Do you agree?