Kaluapele

On the Island of Hawaiʻi, Kaluapele (the pit of pele or Pele) crowns the summit region of the volcano Kīlauea.

31 July 2020

Friday, July 31, 2020. The Day When Sovereignty Was Restored

First, a Note:  Google Blogger has changed/upgraded etc. their blog interface.  I donʻt particularly enjoy change, especially when technologies are concerned.  So.  Please bear with me if resulting Posts are not up to previous standards, such as they were.  Emails regarding comments, edits, or what-la are welcome.  Fingers crossed...  

Lā Hoʻihoʻi Ea, Restoration Day... 

Rather than write my own summary, I direct you, dear readers, to the link below.  Too, youʻll be able to read about and learn of the good works of friends in Paʻauilo and Koholālele, not far from my ʻāina hānau, Honokaʻa.


The logo below features cursive writing similar to that of Kauikeaouli (Kamehameha III).  Note that modern diacritical marks are absent because, of course, they were not used back in the day.


I particularly appreciate the photo below, found online, taken by Gerardo Lazzan of Sao Paulo, Brasil, on June 22, 2011.

The town of Paʻauilo is just off the lower left edge of the image.  Honokaʻa is the concentration of white buildings amidst darkdark green eucalyptus plantation (AUĒ!) toppish center.  Pāʻauhau, the birthplace of Berlinda, my mother, whose birthday was yesterday, is ma kai-ish of Honokaʻa.  My dad Norman, birthday tomorrow, was from Kalōpā, not far off the bottom of the image.  We are Hāmākua people.  All of my great-grandparents landed there in the 1880ʻs when they arrived in the Kingdom of Hawaiʻi after sailing around Cape Horn from Madeira and the Azores.  From Atlantic volcanic islands to a Pacific one.

Perhaps because of my attachment to, and aloha for, Hāmākua, I get irritated, sometimes seriously so, by geographically challenged folks who believe that a boundary of Hāmākua is at the Wailuku River and itʻs "Singing Bridge" in Hilo.

When I grew up, nearly all the lands in the photo were green fields of sugar cane.  Today, along with eucalyptus plantations, fields of tall guinea and other weedy grasses rule.  

At the top of the photo, we can discern dark greens of the slopes of Kohala mountain.  "Hawaiʻi Kuauli" is a poetic phrase referring to the "green back" of the verdure of parts of Hawaiʻi Nei. Clouds are caught at the ma uka edge of Muliwai, the plateau between the valleys of Waipiʻo and Waimanu.  Sadly, the faces of the pali at shore are increasingly covered with tan fountaingrass, that scourge that also blankets the lavalands of Kona ʻAkau, North Kona.  And if your imagination and eyes are keen, there is Haleakalā at the upper right, clouds gathering on her slopes across the ʻAlenuihāhā.


Home...These months of (mostly) maintaining apartness has gifted us with time to mull, think, and consider.  Iʻm really really happy to be living in the ma uka-most reaches of Keaʻau, where Iʻm sometimes able to pretend that the chaos on the continent doesnʻt exist.  Or that the folks on Oʻahu who think theyʻre in charge know what theyʻre doing.  

I keep intending to write more frequently, and perhaps I shall.  Iʻm guessing that future posts will include more observations of ineptitude on the part of our "Leaders", though I donʻt want to devolve and end up in messy morasses of negativity.  Stay tuned...

Meantime, nūnī continues to improve.  Very Slowly.  I have an extremely competent Physical Therapist in town, and his encouragements, and my learning by trial and mostly error to Take It Easy with recovery, makes those small incremental impovements possible.  I still get to walk to Keanakākoʻi and marvel.

The photo is from November last, with māhu hoʻokino floating above the Lua.  As gases and steam rise from subterranean pele, they cool and condense.  In minutes, spherical puffs of cloud form and hang above the Lua, endlessly fascinating those who pay attention.  


And we pay attention and make observations too (since we have the time) about things in the house.  

I happen to enjoy the bright green of Midori anthuriums.  Named after that green melony liqueur from Japan, the flower was bred by Calvin Hayashi in 1985, here on the Island of Hawaiʻi.  Go google "midori anthurium" for more info.  So at the end of March I bought a few blooms at the Volcano Store.


And they were installed in the living room.


On its last legs, the photo above of fading glory was taken on July 4, more than three months after purchase.  Pretty good investment, I think...

With that, time for me to head out for a stroll in the Park.  Stay tuned for more intermittent and often random inspirations.

Go Outside!!!  Pay Attention!!!  Wear Your Mask!!!  etc etc etc.

As always, with aloha,

BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com

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