Video produced by Ale Roz
I live in Goiânia, Brazil, near a tree-filled park. Every now and then, I head out for a workout, walk through the neighborhood streets, enjoy the greenery, observe nature, and come back home carrying what looks like an entire fruit market.
I'm not exaggerating. Mangoes, guavas, jabuticabas (Brazilian grape trees), mulberries, sugar apples, custard apples, pomegranates, acerolas, Surinam cherries, inga beans, pequi, umbu, avocados, jackfruit, lemons, tangerines, oranges, star fruit, ambarella, Spanish plums, tamarind, pitomba, sugarcane... I've even come across coffee growing along the way.
And I'm not talking about a farmers' market, a tourist orchard, or a rural property. I'm talking about streets, sidewalks, squares, parks, and even vacant lots throughout the city.
Some days, you come across a mango so enormous that you start wondering whether the tree has been secretly producing disguised watermelons. Some look as if they were specifically engineered to test the strength of the human skull. After all, in Goiânia, looking up isn't just about admiring the scenery. It's also a safety precaution.
Jackfruit deserves special respect, too. One of those massive fruits falling from a tree could turn a peaceful walk into a police incident. Not exactly what you expect to encounter during your morning exercise.
And don't think nature offers only fruit and shade. There are bees, wasps, enormous ants, venomous creatures, and the infamous tarantula hawk wasps — insects that look as though they were designed by someone with serious personal issues with humanity.
You learn to watch where you step, where you put your hands, and, most importantly, what's hanging above your head. Nature is generous, but it doesn't exist exclusively for our comfort.
And then there are the city's other residents.
Toucans, marmosets, and several pairs of Cerrado macaws that practically work regular office hours. Every morning, I see these macaws flying and calling as they head toward the city center. In the afternoon, they make their way back. It's as if they have office hours, meetings, and appointments downtown. All they're missing is complaining about traffic.
I also see thrushes, grassquits, great kiskadees, southern lapwings, woodpeckers, doves, and ovenbirds. They're everywhere. They sing, defend their territory, search for food, build nests, and carry on with their lives while we go about ours.
And this happens so routinely that we often don't even stop to notice.
I've also encountered anteaters, boa constrictors, and even caimans among the Cerrado vegetation and green areas around the region. No, we don't have jaguars or pumas strolling down my sidewalk every day — at least not yet. I suppose that would be a little too much even by Goiânia standards.
But think about it: I go out for a walk, find fruits from all sorts of places, cross paths with birds that many people only know from documentaries, spot marmosets in the trees, and still have to consider the possibility of encountering a snake along the way.
All of this within an urban region surrounded by the Cerrado.
The extraordinary has become ordinary
The most curious thing is that, for me and many people around here, this is perfectly normal.
There isn't necessarily a master plan to turn every street into an orchard. Many trees were planted by residents, while others grew in private lots, backyards, and vacant plots. Some are native Cerrado species; others came from distant parts of the world and found excellent conditions to thrive here.
The result is an impressive combination of biodiversity, history, culture, and everyday habits.
Some fruits ripen right on the tree and offer flavors that are difficult to find in supermarkets. They haven't gone through a transportation chain, haven't been selected for their appearance, and weren't harvested with the goal of remaining attractive on a supermarket shelf for as long as possible.
You simply find them, recognize them, wait until they're ripe, and, when harvesting is permitted and safe, enjoy them.
Of course, it's not all perfect. You need to watch out for falling fruit, insect nests, venomous animals, traffic, private property, and trees that may have been treated with chemicals. Not every beautiful-looking fruit is necessarily safe to eat.
Still, there's an abundance here that's part of the landscape — something many cities have lost or never had in the first place.
An advertisement for paradise?
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to tell this story to someone living in a major European city or somewhere urban nature is much more distant from everyday life.
Imagine explaining that you go out for exercise and come back with mangoes, guavas, star fruit, hog plums, and jabuticabas. That along the way you encounter toucans, macaws, marmosets, woodpeckers, and dozens of other birds. That anteaters, boa constrictors, and caimans inhabit the Cerrado areas around the city.
It would probably sound like one of those evangelical leaflets promising paradise after death.
Except you don't have to die to experience it. You just have to live in Goiânia and know where to walk.
And the best part? You don't need to pay an entrance fee, buy a tour package, or book an eco-lodge. You just walk out your front door.
Perhaps the funniest part is precisely this: while many people travel thousands of miles to experience a closer connection with nature, I go out for a workout and come back with an entire fruit market, a few wildlife stories, and, depending on my luck, without having been assassinated by a two-kilogram mango.
The Cerrado isn't just a landscape surrounding Goiânia. In many places, it remains an active part of everyday urban life. And we've grown so accustomed to it that we sometimes forget just how extraordinary it really is.
#goiania #goias #brazil #cerrado #braziliannature #nature #biodiversity #urbannature #wildlife #tropicalfruits #nativefruits #fruittrees #naturelovers #birdwatching #birdsofbrazil #sustainability #environment #outdoorlife #wildlifephotography #discoverbrazil