The Orejero That Feeds Everyone

Omar Enrique Berdugo Cabeza was walking alone that afternoon of March 5th when he stopped near the tamarindo in the sector of los guardianes. There, in that familiar corner of the reserve, an orejero in full bloom awaited him — heavy with fruit, one of those trees that at Fundación Loros has already earned a story of its own. The foundation's records hold images of loros guacamallas feasting on its seeds, though that day Omar couldn't quite catch the moment — the tree stood there, generous and quiet, with no visible audience. But the orejero does not belong only to the parrots. Omar describes it as a gathering place for venados, ñeques, and cattle alike, all drawn in by its fruit. The foundation's own guardianes often pass through — not just to observe, but to rest beneath its shade, which during the fiercest hours of the Caribbean sun feels like something close to a gift. It is that kind of tree: one that sustains many lives without making a fuss. It offers fruit, it offers shade, it offers shelter — and it stands firm while everything else moves around it.