The forest canopy has been thinned so that the floor is bushier than it used to be. And dotted with clearings, where the old trees have been cut down. Here is a fresh one.
The men I hiked with had decades of experience in these woods. And they mourned their passing. We noticed a landslide on the far hill of a ravine, just below a clearing that had been cut. Not trees, nothing to hold the soil on the mountain. Sad, and dangerous.
But they didn't just mourn. They hiked with shovels and hoes. So that when we came upon two smoking charcoal pits, they were ready for action. The elusive charcoal burners cut protected trees, then bury the logs under layers of sticks and dirt for a slow low-oxygen burn that will dehydrate and lighten the fuel into charcoal while still preserving some of its stored organic energy. This is lucrative, but inefficient. Not to mention illegal. To discourage them our group uncovered the smoldering pits and scattered the logs far and wide. And then called the forestry service who is supposed to be stopping this abuse of the environment. In a poor country it is difficult for entrepreneurs to resist the pull to make some money off trees, and equally difficult for the officials to resist the pull to make some money off looking the other way.
Our local church, the school staff, a local NGO called Care of Creation, neighbors, police, forestry service personnel, and the press are all beginning to cooperate to save the remnant of this forest. Not quite the same as resuscitating a baby on a Saturday morning, but in the long run the effect is similarly life-affirming and future-oriented. A privilege to participate.
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