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.
(Some pictures were touched up in Canva.)
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STOPThank you once again.
You have lots of hammocks, me too haha for my baby, our house is two storey so I have one in second floor, one in ground floor and the other one is outside. I remember before I'm living in rural area my mother recycled empty rice sack to make a hammock and that's it, we really enjoyed.
I am happy to share the same sentiments with you. Yes, sacks were the best material for our hammocks back then. We were very poor and lacked resources, but those sack hammocks were among my happiest childhood memories.
Awww... Your story beautifully captures the deep nostalgia and cultural richness tied to hammocks. These aren't just hammocks actually. I'd say a pahingahan, a hanging resting place transformed into cherished symbols of tradition, comfort, and family memories. Each hammock, whether made of cloth, rope, or rattan, represents the craftsmanship and heritage of the people who made them, making them more than just a place to rest—they are woven with the spirit of generations. Reading this, I realized, duyan in the bukid hits different in this modern time. Your connection to these hammocks is a beautiful testament to the power of tradition and the small yet meaningful.
Indeed. Thank you for your thoughtful response. I am happy my story resonated with you in such a meaningful way.
This blog gave me a vivid memories of my grandfather who is a huge fan of hammock. Childhood memories that are forever cherish and will never be forgotten.
Your response moved me to tears 😥I paused, speechless, tears silently tracing paths down my cheeks as I reminisced about my grandfather. I terribly missed him.
I lost my grandfather too few years ago and these hammock activities were my greatest memories with him. Huggggg!
Oh, I'm very sorry to hear about your grandfather. Losing someone you love is incredibly difficult. I am honored though, that my story helped you remember him fondly.
⋆ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ғᴏʀ sᴏᴜᴛʜᴇᴀsᴛ ᴀsɪᴀɴ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴏɴ ʜɪᴠᴇ
⋆ sᴜʙsᴄʀɪʙᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀsᴇᴀɴ ʜɪᴠᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛʏ
⋆ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀsᴇᴀɴ ʜɪᴠᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛʏ ᴠᴏᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀɪʟ
⋆ ᴅᴇʟᴇɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ʟɪɴᴋs 25 ʜᴘ⇾50 ʜᴘ⇾100 ʜᴘ⇾500 ʜᴘ⇾1,000 ʜᴘ
Wow! Thank you @asean.hive. I'm so honored to be reblogged by you.
You had lots of hammocking experience. So fun to look at them and nice to share the memories you had with each.
Yes, po. They all have their hammocks. Wherever we go we always bring hammocks with us.