shaking still she works
oia mau nō there and here
our lives continue
Cannot.
When Pelehonuamea does her ʻōlaʻi ʻōniu pele, the floor of her primary residence sinks. Sometimes 30 feet at a time. Halemaʻumaʻu enlarges by 10 million cubic meters a day. A day. Cyclical earthquakes continue, but try figure out the "cycle" and the capricious Proprietress will alter it. Tis truly humbling. Elsewhere, or with other phenomena, thereʻs usually a clear Beginning and then an End. The hurricane starts spinningmoving almost imperceptibly, increases then decreases in strength and itʻs over. The land remains, people rebuild, readjust. Tsunami wreak havoc in a matter of minutes or hours. The land remains, people rebuild, readjust. Whirling tornado demolishes this and not that. The land remains, people rebuild, readjust. Floods flood and recede. The land remains, people rebuild, readjust.
Pele flows, blanketing the land and creating more at the shore. New textures and colors adorn the landscape and kīpuka lie scattered about. Remnant kīpuka remind, but every. little. thing. is different, fresh, new. And at certain places, "place" sinks into oblivion. All of it recycled with what appears to be inconceivable magic. But that "magic" is a component of processes that began billions of years ago. We watch as place disappears before our eyes. Itʻs all such a confounding perplexment. Itʻll take awhile for our brains to rewire, for us to come to know and love the new, though wistful longing for ʻāina aloha gone will persist.
That recycling...rocks tumble into the abyss and some, falling into molten reservoirs, will be remelted and erupted miles away. Pieces of the floor of Halemaʻumaʻu and of Kaluapele and the offerings deposited therein pulverized, waft away away away...
And I might not be making a lot of sense right now, but new realities toy with our minds and our thought processes.
And now about those clouds...
Driving into town yesterday I saw the pyrocumulus created by Māwae ʻEwalu, the river of pele, and the multiple ocean entries, and had to stop...near Pepeʻekeo. The picture is of poor quality, but the highest horizontal line of white is the thickly convoluted pyrocumulus. Follow it to the left, and angle down to the shore. Impressive, I thought.
And about the same time, a screen shot of the KEcam. Lots of steam because of cool air temperature, humidity, etc. That dark blotch just to right of center is part of the growing pali facing Halemaʻumaʻu.
Note that the most recent, those in red, are scattered north and east of Halemaʻumaʻu. Those are the areas currently subsiding during ʻōlaʻi and ʻōniu pele. Many feet a day.
You know, there are folks who want the Park, or parts of the Park like the Mauna Loa Road to reopen. I suppose I can kinda understand that. But. We have no idea what the future holds. None. No Idea. At all. Best thing to do is keep it closed till Pele decides to rest. Until subsidence stops, until earthquake frequency decreases, everywhere up here will continue to see change of some sort.
And, I suppose for old times sake, hereʻs a relatively uncluttered look at the Halemaʻumaʻu we knew. This morning was relatively quiet. All ʻLast 20" earthquakes shown at 625 this morning were smaller than M3.
OK then.
Iʻm trying to decide how to proceed with this writing effort. I know I canʻt keep posting daily. I know I really enjoy this sort of writing. I hope that Iʻm helping educate and inform.
So please stay tuned via Bookmark or Follow. Till tomorrow...
As always, with aloha,
BobbyC
Aloha koaloha, I imagine these posts are both therapy and fulfill your professor proclivities...I imagine and appreciate both purposes...but the joy and grief I experience as a reader I imagine mirrors on a minute scale of experience that of the land and my friend. Suit yourself on a posting schedule as the expression of observations is, I am guessing, led by the emotions and rhythm of pele.
ReplyDeletePost as you like, no need schedule. I'll take what I can get.
ReplyDeleteI love your writing. You make me smile with your word choices and how you group them together to paint a picture. It's a gift, and it's also a present. One is yours, the other is ours.
ReplyDeletePost as you feel compelled to. There is no need for a daily update, or even a weekly one if you aren't drawn to sit at the computer and compose. We appreciate all you offer us, the insight and drawing of parallels that are not commonplace.
As always, mahalo. Ke aloha nō.