Poui Wisdom — Lessons for all Seasons

Simone Ganpat
4 min readMar 29, 2024

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“The poui can be considered a social and caring species; at the very least, they understand on a physiological level that their existence is interconnected with others.”

In my experience, the poui tree has always been an exceptional time-teller. In my undergraduate days at the UWI St. Augustine campus, the shedding of the tree’s yellowing foliage followed by the opening of its soft pink flowers that eventually blanketed several of the campus’ popular spots, signified the beginning of “exam season”, as they so called it. For those who celebrate Easter, this dormancy process resembling death precedes a certain beauty, which some may compare to Jesus’ journey over those three fateful days. For most folks, the blooming poui is a popular and loose indicator of the ebbing of the harsh dry season and of rains to come. Besides its amazing solar-powered time telling, however, I believe the poui tree holds lessons that we can carry with us through all seasons and in times of crisis, especially as we face the overwhelming effects of climate change in Trinidad and Tobago and the wider Caribbean.

Yellow poui in bloom. Photo: Pinterest

There are three species of poui in Trinidad and Tobago. The yellow-flowered Black Poui, Handroanthos chyrsanthus, and Yellow Poui, Handroanthos serratifolius, are native to Trinidad and Tobago. The Pink Poui, Tabebuia rosea, was introduced and has become indigenized. Why the one that is remarkably more common around populated areas is also the non-native one is an interesting question and one for another time, but I have ascertained that it may wholly be a question of humans’ perception of a being rather than of the being itself.

Pouis belong to the family Bignoniaceae; they shed their leaves after 2–4 weeks of little to no rainfall, known as the dry season. They are very resourceful, entering a dormant phase until adequate rainfall triggers their beautiful pink or yellow blooms. The poui can be considered a social and caring species; at the very least, they understand on a physiological level that their existence is interconnected with others. They exhibit synchronous flowering, meaning they flower simultaneously with other pouis close by. You will notice this phenomenon along the Queens Park Savannah, for example. The benefit is twofold; by doing this, they increase their chances of being pollinated and provide pollinators, like birds, bats, and bees, with an abundance of food. Pouis are resilient; known to be fire-resistant, even while the mountains and savannahs are ravaged during the dry season. They are also givers; giving their sturdy and durable wood sought after by humans to create homes and furniture. These are but some of the qualities I believe the poui can help us to realize within ourselves.

Poui trees in bloom, Queens Park Savannah, Trinidad. Photo: Pinterest

The first time I internalized climate change was through the clairvoyance of a poui tree. I was in my final undergraduate year, walking underneath the flowery branches when a realization came to me — it’s not exam season! We were never taught very much about the seriousness of climate change in secondary school. The global warming process and greenhouse gases were the extent of the knowledge we had access to in high school curricula. Not much has changed since then.

The United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change has been around since before I was born. Climate change is disrupting the earth’s natural processes which keep us fed, housed, and breathing. At the same time, it is drastically changing our relationships with the world around us. Climate change exacerbates existing social issues such as the marginalization of certain groups of people, and environmental issues like biodiversity loss. Now, as I spend my working hours researching climate change and its impact on Caribbean people, I realize how much we need to act on our collective responsibility to listen more carefully to the lessons nature provides, especially if we are to be resilient in the face of these interconnected crises.

As an ecologist, I am fascinated with relationships. The poui tree’s relationship with time, with other species, with change, with crisis — are all relationships we can seek to embody. If you celebrate, happy Easter. To everyone else, happy Poui Season. May we all learn from this majestic tree to move towards being in right relationship with the earth and each other, even through times of doubt and uncertainty, so that we may all blossom together.

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Simone Ganpat
Simone Ganpat

Written by Simone Ganpat

ecology, social justice, climate change, systems thinking.

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