Kīlauea Update, Sunday, June 17, 2018, Breezeless, but ʻōpelu tremble

opelu tremble

crisp breezeless morning sunkissed

there she rises too

A beaut of a morning in the forest.  Attempting an earlyish post so I can deal with housekeeping, long neglected.  Auē.  The mess!

Had a few ʻōlaʻi starting at 3am-ish.  If had some earlier, I was sleeping.  After 3, was that in-and-out of dreamland thing...  Out of bed just after sunrise, getting coffee ready, washing dishes, then heard the tinkling of pans hanging from the rack.  And out the kitchen window, ʻōpelu were swaying breezelessly.  Ah Hah!  She snuck in kinda quietly this morning.  Came upstairs and watched lehu rise up on the Halemaʻumaʻu Live Cam.  Mesmerizing.

Halemaʻumaʻu Live Cam

Oh.  And not the fish kine ʻōpelu; the plant one.  Lobelia hypoleuca.  Kinda junk, the picture, but the leaves are narrow and long, and whitish silver on the back.  Like ʻopelu the fish.  Not sure if this pairing is mentioned, like so many others, in the Kumulipo, but the plant is a favorite.  Thanks ZT.  And they not blooming now.  Wait till Fall.

Where was I???

Oh.  The lehu rising:

Remember the BIG lehu on May 15?  Gnarly blackness roiling.  By comparison, this is lovely.  But see that bit on the far right wall?  Hmmmm

Above, taken after most of the air cleared this morning.  But look at what I call a hanging slab, with māhu (steam) rising from the back, on the far wall.  Wonder how long thatʻll be there?  It probably carries with it part of the Halemaʻumaʻu Parking Lot.  Pele cleaning house.

And when it falls, it wonʻt do so silently.  When we look at pictures or video, theyʻre actually an abstraction of reality.  No sound, no smell, no heat.  I still, after decades, recall the scent of active pāhoehoe:  metallic.  Kind of like the taste when you lick a penny.  Go.  Try.  That, with a little sweetish methane mixed in.  And the sounds too are familiar but foreign.  The scraping of a lobe of pāhoehoe as it moves over an older flow.  The popping of chips off the surface as a brand new silvery flow contracts when cooling or expands when inflating.  The tumbling scraping of a front of ʻaʻā.  The crystal-tinkle of barely warm bits of pōhāhā (tephra or ejecta) falling and shattering around you.

Every.  Little.   Slump.

Quaking.  Tumbling.  She.  Settles.

Kaluapele.

thanks, hf, for the inspiration

And we can only imagine the soundnoise.  Rest assured she isnʻt silent.  Like watching a video, with sound muted, of raging surf.  We know itʻs noisy, but we canʻt hear it.  The rubble piles and fresh kaulu (ledges) in the lua (pit) donʻt just happen without sound effects.  Though yes, her lehu does rise more or less eerily silently.  We can only imagine the rumblings and clatterings.  And read, perhaps, Emersonʻs "Pele and Hiʻiaka" for some very descriptive prose.  Especially the "Hulihia" chants toward the back.  What a commotion!

Sure hope this link works:

Emerson: Pele and Hiʻiaka

And I think of "places" mentioned.  Puuonioni and Papalauahi.  No diacriticals used, because depending if theyʻre used or not, meaning changes.  Explore the Hawaiian Dictionary.  Ledges sticking out, move, squirm, stir, wiggle; being destroyed by lava flow, plates of fire, etc.  Those two places at the summit of Kīlauea are spoken of, I believe, as poetic references, rather than actual "places".  This is a time to muse, mull and wonder.  Be enthralled, fascinated, awestruck and yes, even a little scared.  And write down your thoughts and observations!  I know you probably not going, but...try...

Iʻm including this from Kihei DeSilva.  I appreciate his compilation, thinking and analyses:

A ka luna o Puuonioni

And of course the confetti, with that oddly placed red dot.  A reminder that all layers of the Island of Hawaiʻi are interconnected.  While Ka Wahine (The Woman) is busy at Kīlauea, Mauna Loa and her other edifices also tremble.  Note the lack of Red, and very little Orange and Yellow on the LERZ (Lower East Rift Zone).  Relatively quiet there on the ʻōlaʻi front.

And, at Puna ma kai, in Keahialaka, the erupting Māwae ʻEwalu (Fissure 8) still going.  The puʻu is about 175 feet tall, as is seemingly, her fountain.  And I keep forgetting...directly behind her, partly obscured by uahi ʻawa (sulphur smoke) is Kaliu, a puʻu mentioned frequently in chant, along with neighboring lua Puʻulena.

Good?  OK...

And no foʻget:  ask questions.  And donʻt DONʻT pay too much attention to the ridiculousness on social media.  Is that an oxymoron?  Iʻm not on FaceBook or anything else, but from what friends tell me:  Fracking eruptions, Hilina slumping mega-tsunami, Kīlauea EXPLODING!!!!  People really need to get a life.  

I have a good one and trust that you do too.  If your Dad is alive, honor him.  If not, conjure up good memories.

As always, with aloha,

BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com