Aloha!
So the big half century birthday celebration goes on... and I couldn't ask for more.
Hawaii always seemd like such a cliche vacation destination that I never really wanted to come here until we won a trip last year and I made a friend in Maui who showed me the island from a local's point of view, walking into eucalyptus and bamboo forests, swimming naked in pristine waterfall pools... What an irresistible combination of mountain, forest and ocean! So now I'm hooked... blissed out revisting Kimana and the bamboo and waterfalls on Maui with the family last week.
The tiny little place we're renting now sits on volcanic rock on the southern edge of Kauai, perhaps 20 yards (?) from the sea. The waves breaking against the ancient lava remains explode, 20 or 30 feet in the air sometimes, making the spray visible even from inside the bedroom.. meanwhile we hear an almost steady rumble of the surf like thunder and the place shivers ever so slightly when a really big wave hits.... and at night the moonlight comes straight thru the palm fronds onto the bed... I love it.
My biggest conundrum here has been where to point my camera. At the sudden gushing fountains of sea spray to the west? the aqua breakers swirling into the cove to the east? at the torrents of foam rushing over the tumbled black rock? the blowback on rollers in the distance? the dancing palm trees? the morphing clouds? the bobbing sea turtles? my daughters, husband and son-in-law to be beaming joy?
I'd thought to sit on the deck and do some deep, reflective journalling, apropo to a landmark birthday yesterday, but couldn't keep my eyes off the sea and sky, or my hands off my camera as I tried to capture the rapture of watching the waves crashing against the volcanic outcroppings. For as long as I can remember, I've thought a curling wave was one of the most beautiful things in the world, and I've never been so close to waves of this scale on a continuing basis. So for the last day and a half my quest has been to capture the precise moment when the wave, or its flying spray is most beautiful. Easier said than done along this ragged coast with its nooks and caves and crannies inviting and rebuffing the advances the ocean pushed and pulled by wind and lunar tides. I have yet to be able to predict where and how the shifting swells will climax.
I had a dream the other night that I was completing some kind of exam and the last question was "Where do you come from? Tell us a little about yourself." It was a frustration dream, trying to find the paper I was supposed to write on, or even enough clean paper for my own notes. I could hear the clock ticking as I tried unsuccessfully to formulate the words, but I did waken with the thought that I love the change and constancy, the power and beauty embodied by the sea which has often provided a focal point for my identity.
In the few minutes I was able to actually be still yesterday I realized that I could not describe my relationship to the incredible inspiration (artistic, literary or philosophical) elicited by exploring these islands (or exploring any place, relationship or idea during my lifetime for that matter) better than Solite did in a recent post that bears repeating here:
“I am circling around Beauty, the bright heart of Existence, and I have been circling for a thousand lifetimes, and I still do not know if I am moth to be consumed, a bride to be wed, or a prophet to be anointed.”
Thank you Solite.
And thank you to all my friends and family in the last 50 years who have endured my unpredicatable, sometimes lunatic, tides and turnings with grace and love. Nothing is more beautiful to me than the love we share.
Hawaii always seemd like such a cliche vacation destination that I never really wanted to come here until we won a trip last year and I made a friend in Maui who showed me the island from a local's point of view, walking into eucalyptus and bamboo forests, swimming naked in pristine waterfall pools... What an irresistible combination of mountain, forest and ocean! So now I'm hooked... blissed out revisting Kimana and the bamboo and waterfalls on Maui with the family last week.
The tiny little place we're renting now sits on volcanic rock on the southern edge of Kauai, perhaps 20 yards (?) from the sea. The waves breaking against the ancient lava remains explode, 20 or 30 feet in the air sometimes, making the spray visible even from inside the bedroom.. meanwhile we hear an almost steady rumble of the surf like thunder and the place shivers ever so slightly when a really big wave hits.... and at night the moonlight comes straight thru the palm fronds onto the bed... I love it.
My biggest conundrum here has been where to point my camera. At the sudden gushing fountains of sea spray to the west? the aqua breakers swirling into the cove to the east? at the torrents of foam rushing over the tumbled black rock? the blowback on rollers in the distance? the dancing palm trees? the morphing clouds? the bobbing sea turtles? my daughters, husband and son-in-law to be beaming joy?
I'd thought to sit on the deck and do some deep, reflective journalling, apropo to a landmark birthday yesterday, but couldn't keep my eyes off the sea and sky, or my hands off my camera as I tried to capture the rapture of watching the waves crashing against the volcanic outcroppings. For as long as I can remember, I've thought a curling wave was one of the most beautiful things in the world, and I've never been so close to waves of this scale on a continuing basis. So for the last day and a half my quest has been to capture the precise moment when the wave, or its flying spray is most beautiful. Easier said than done along this ragged coast with its nooks and caves and crannies inviting and rebuffing the advances the ocean pushed and pulled by wind and lunar tides. I have yet to be able to predict where and how the shifting swells will climax.
I had a dream the other night that I was completing some kind of exam and the last question was "Where do you come from? Tell us a little about yourself." It was a frustration dream, trying to find the paper I was supposed to write on, or even enough clean paper for my own notes. I could hear the clock ticking as I tried unsuccessfully to formulate the words, but I did waken with the thought that I love the change and constancy, the power and beauty embodied by the sea which has often provided a focal point for my identity.
In the few minutes I was able to actually be still yesterday I realized that I could not describe my relationship to the incredible inspiration (artistic, literary or philosophical) elicited by exploring these islands (or exploring any place, relationship or idea during my lifetime for that matter) better than Solite did in a recent post that bears repeating here:
“I am circling around Beauty, the bright heart of Existence, and I have been circling for a thousand lifetimes, and I still do not know if I am moth to be consumed, a bride to be wed, or a prophet to be anointed.”
Thank you Solite.
And thank you to all my friends and family in the last 50 years who have endured my unpredicatable, sometimes lunatic, tides and turnings with grace and love. Nothing is more beautiful to me than the love we share.