Hey Hivers, hope you're having a great day! This is my entry for the 🌴 Hammock Hangin' 🌞👨💻 Week #146 👩💻.
Hammocks are more than just furniture. They’re a feeling, a memory, a connection to the people who share our lives. For me, they’re a constant companion, a reminder of who I am and where I come from.
Growing up on a farm, I can't remember a time without a hammock swaying beneath the trees, most of the time on the balcony or even inside the living room. It was a place of quiet reflection, and relaxation while watching the sunset and the stars come out. I’ve slept in those hammocks, dreamt in them, and even read a thousand stories nestled within their comforting embrace. I’ve encountered all kinds of hammocks over the years, a combination of ropes and sacks, crafted from sturdy cloth, or even made from strong, sturdy rattan. Each one tells a story, echoing the traditions and cultures of the people who made them.
Even my children grew up knowing the comfort of a hammock. When they were babies, I cradled them in hammocks from different tribes in my country, each one a unique expression of artistry and tradition. From the Iloggos hammock made with patadyong
and rope, the Maguindanaon hammock with its playful springs to the Maranao hammock, built with sturdy wooden frames, each hammock brought a touch of magic and comfort to their lives.
But there’s more to hammocks than just comfort and relaxation. They hold memories, too. They’re a reminder of my grandparents, of long afternoons spent under the star apple tree, and passing the time waiting for the night to come. I’d swing in the hammock, my grandpa lying down on a karosa, a cart pulled by a carabao, which we used to transport goods from one place to another. We didn't have cars back then, so the karosa was our trusty mode of transport, carrying everything from harvests to household supplies. The hammock was our shared haven, a place to escape the heat, share stories, and watch the world drift by.
The hammock was also where I would wait patiently for my grandparents when they were away from home. I’d swing gently, letting my thoughts drift, knowing they would be back soon.
My children are now grown, but still as passionate about hammocks as I am. Whenever we head back to the farm, or visit family for a night or two, we always pack our hammocks. They’re portable sanctuaries, offering a cozy spot to sleep, read, or simply relax under the open sky.
For me, joining this contest isn't just about winning. It's about sharing the story of hammocks, how they've woven themselves into the fabric of my life, and the deep sense of connection they evoke. They remind me of my roots, my family, and the simple pleasures of a life lived in harmony with nature. And that’s a story I’m always happy to share.