The heavy rains and widespread flooding recently brought by tropical storms Crising and Emong have once again laid bare the tragic vulnerability of our people and our country to the forces of nature.

Once more, these deluges have paralyzed communities in parts of Metro Manila and the countryside, recalling the devastation of Typhoon Ondoy in 2009 that submerged cities, displaced thousands of families, and left hundreds dead.

But as we watched recent images of swollen rivers, submerged roads, and families seeking refuge on rooftops, our memory turned back even further — 53 years ago — to the month of July 1972.

At the time, we were a young, first-term congressman representing the Second District of Pangasinan. That year, our nation experienced one of its worst flooding disasters in history. Typhoon Gloring was followed in quick succession by three more typhoons — Huaning, Isang, and Konsing. For nearly a month, torrential rains pounded Metro Manila, Central Luzon, and Northern Luzon, including our home province. Thousands were stranded. Vehicles were swept away. Communities were engulfed in muddy floodwaters. And there was a desperate shortage of food, drinking water, and medicine.

The then Weather Bureau (now PAGASA) declared that the rainfall in July and August of 1972 was the heaviest since 1911. Some accounts have aptly described it as “The Great Philippine Flood of 1972.” (We wrote about it in our column last July 28, 2024).

And as fate would have it, another major natural calamity also struck the country in July — this time in 1990 — when a powerful 7.7-magnitude earthquake rocked Central and Northern Luzon, leaving more than 2,500 dead and billions in damages.

Indeed, our country’s geography has placed us in the crosshairs of natural calamities. As part of the Pacific Ring of Fire and the typhoon belt, the Philippines is among the most disaster-prone nations in the world. We endure an average of 20 typhoons each year. Earthquakes, floods, landslides, and volcanic eruptions are a part of our national experience.

Yet while we Filipinos are known for our resilience and our deep faith that helps us rise from the rubble and the waters time and again, we must also acknowledge that survival alone is no longer enough. The worsening impact of these disasters — particularly the frequency and intensity of floods — points to the deeper crisis of climate change, which demands more than just reactive measures.

One simple but powerful solution is tree planting and reforestation. It is a practical and critical program in the broader battle against climate change — one that can be implemented immediately and sustained by communities across the country.

Trees are our first line of defense against floods. They stabilize our soil, absorb rainwater, reduce runoff, and help prevent landslides. They provide shade, purify our air, and regulate temperatures. When planted in the right places, trees can slow down the rush of water that now so easily overwhelms our streets and rivers. Reforestation, especially in denuded uplands and watersheds, is not just an environmental task — it is a moral duty.

With global temperatures rising, and with extreme weather becoming the new normal — from super typhoons and massive floods to wildfires and droughts — the call to restore our forests has become ever more urgent.

Government, civil society, schools, businesses, and every able Filipino must take part in this national effort. Let us plant trees — not just as a gesture, but as a strategy; not just to remember the past, but to safeguard our future. Climate change is no longer a far-off threat. It is here. It is now. But so too is our capacity to act.

Let the lessons of 1972, of Ondoy, of Crising and Emong, not be in vain. Let them serve as reminders that while nature may challenge us, we are not helpless, so long as we work together, rooted in care for our environment and for the generations yet to come.