Rubber trees

Rubber tree pods. (Hevea brasiliensis)

The Thief at the End of the World

I'm delighted to have received Joe Jackson's book, The Thief at the End of the World. I'm even more pleased to have received it from the author, himself. Joe spent one morning with me at Bosque Santa Lucia in October, 2005, while researching the life of Henry Wickham, the alias "thief", who made off with the rubber tree seeds. Wickham immigrated to the Amazon from England in 1871, and farmed at piquía-tuba, which is at the top of the hill on the way to the Bosque. It can't be more than 3-4 kilometers away, as the vulture flies. Knowing the place and some of the history of rubber, I savored every last word in Joe's book. Image: latex forming from a cut on a rubber tree (Hevea brasiliensis) at Bosque Santa Lúcia.

Henry Ford in Belterra

Another old friend we encountered at the Book Fair was Henry Ford, founder of rubber tree plantations at Fordlandia and Belterra. I didn't pay a lot of attention to details, but I think this exhibit was sponsored by the Municipality of Belterra, which borders with the Santarem Municipality. I've never seen this painting of Ford before, although it's similar to a photograph that hangs on the wall of the ICBS Library.

Death in the forest, continued

A closer view of our predator getting ready to dine on the grasshopper that I scared into its web. This isn't a common spider here. It's the second one I've seen.

Back to Mararu, continued

A walk around Mararu wouldn't be complete without seeing rubber trees (Hevea brasiliensis). This one is quite old and well scarred from tapping for rubber latex in times past.

Morning at Mararu, part 17

I wasn't surprised to see rubber tree (Hevea brasiliensis) seeds on the ground at Paulo and Zilma's place. There are several older trees there and it's that time of year when they are falling. I shouldn't say "falling" because they actually projected from their pods by an explosion up in the tree. There are normally three seeds in a pod, which is the explosion chamber. It's nature's way of spreading the seeds over a larger distance. Santarém, by the way, was the departure point for 70,000 seeds smuggled out of the Amazon by Henry Wickham. All very interesting history, if you have the time to research it.