December 23, 2005 at 8:22 am | Posted in Records of a Tiny Village | 1 Comment

The season for nuts is over. At the beginning of each season there’s definetely a great number of nuts all around. Everywhere you went you found nuts.

You had various kinds of nuts, from the really small ones to the huge ones. You had the sweet ones and the salty ones. All types and kinds to be had.

Now there are no nuts left? What happened? Well the season is over. Arguably a great big storm came and it killed the batch of nuts. Half of the nuts just disappeared and the other half is slowly disappearing. Soon we will have none left.

Will there be a next season? Some old folks would tell you that there will always be a new season for nuts, but us younger folk believe that the time of nuts is over. There will be no more nuts. Eventually the tall nut trees and low nut vines will disappear. They will all wither and die away.

Amongst the villagers we argue as to whether to burn down the trees and move on to another crop, or to just try and keep the trees alive in hopes that there can be more nuts again. The prospects do not look good. Half of our holdings have been devastated. There seems almost no hope of regrowth in that part. With half of the trees dead, the other half almost seems like it is just giving up. Sometimes there’ll be good days and new green leaves will sprout, and everyone will be cautiously optimistic. Too often it’s a false alarm and the leaves turn brown and fall down.

No longer do we wake up to birds chirping, or to squirrels scurrying around. Even the animals are gone or leaving. Nothing is left. Looking at the fields is like looking at a desolate wasteland. In this empty space hope dies and death reigns. Should we even continue to stay on here or move to another place? We, as a village, are unsure. New crops or a new place would mean having to start over. Going through the same painstaking efforts. To nurture and to look after.

I hope that there will be another nut season. Where nuts are aplenty and joy fills the fields and homes. For now, we can only wait and see. Let us just hope that we do not die with those dying fields.

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