Monday, October 22, 2018. Another??? Already? The icebox, adaptability, and variability

Maybe itʻs the regular walking.  Or something...

So.  Leon and Brian built my little house in the forest starting in November 1984.  I moved in in April 1985.  "Little" = a 16 x 24 main floor, a 10 x 16 loft, and the shower on the back porch.  Added a 12 x 12 bedroom downstairs about 10 or 12 years ago.  Ma gave me an icebox to get started.  It was a GE, same brand we had ever since I can remember.  In Honokaʻa, the silver swirly GE logo on the door was used by Ma to check my eyes when I was in third grade.  We had had one of those exams in school - the one with all the "E"s facing in different directions - and you had to hold out your hand to match what you saw.

Joanne Ahuna went home and told her mom that I couldnʻt see.  Her mom Margie called my mom...thus the impromptu test.

And so my sentimental fondness for GE iceboxes.  Laugh or chuckle as is your wont.  And I just found the original receipt, The Book, and the computer-punched card (Remember?) for the warranty.  You supposed to keep ʻum:

A few weeks ago, 33.5 YEARS after Ma bought my icebox from LK Appliance in Hilo, it started making funnykine noises off and on.  From the freezer compartment.  Stevie said was the bearings in the motor.  Better get a new one.  MAN!!!

So I did.  A Whirlpool.  With an icemaker that Stevie and Iris took out because I neva laik um.  I doubt very very much that the new one will last even half as long as the old one.  And people wonder why I get nuha.  Built in obsolescence.  Gotta keep buying new ones when the old ones broke to keep The Economy going.  Auē!

I know...pua ting me...

And now, not even a tangent...A complete Change of Topic...

The forest in which I built my home is ʻōhiʻa dominant, with an understory of hāpuʻu pulu, and other rain forest species.  Including a happyface spider I saw on my shower head not that long ago...

Maybe youʻll be able to see the smiling face...

Some folks like to tell the story of ʻŌhiʻa and Lehua, the fated lovers, so listeners are able to "connect" with the trees.  "Why?" I ask?  Why repeat a made-up story, when reality is so much more fascinating.  According to a report published recently, ʻōhiʻa lehua came here from Tasmania...maybe island-hopping along the way.  Trees canʻt sail the ocean sapphire (unless theyʻre made into waʻa or float as logs), but their ʻanoʻano (seeds), especially those of ʻōhiʻa, are eminently waftable.  See???

Theyʻre tiny.  Yes, thatʻs a US Twenty-Five Cent piece.  A quarter.  And those are indeed ʻōhiʻa seeds.  Easy to be blown on the wind.  And maybe the seeds are so abundant, or because its the nature of Metrosideros polymorpha to be so variable, every single tree of my acquaintance is different.  Poly = many, morpha = forms.  Many, many different forms.  Liko (young leaf shoots), pua lehua (the flowers), the form of the tree as a whole; all are different and variable.

The photo collage of liko (above) is courtesy of Nate Yuen, and can be found on his sometimes vertiginous website:

http://hawaiianforest.com/wp/

Liko tea is excellent for persistent coughing.  I favor the shiny red ones as in the lower right photo.  For some reason the scent is evocative of the seashore.  Kinda limu-ish.  At least to my nose.

And, I believe, that like ʻāhinahina (silverswords), the fuzzy leaves shield from ultraviolet rays at higher elevations.  I think.  ʻŌhiʻa with pubescent (fuzzy) liko seem to be happier in deserts too, while the glabrous (smooth) ones can handle rainforest climate better.  They all seem to grow where ever, but trends are seen.

Lehua in all its kalakoa-ness.  These were gathered around our Waimea a few years ago by friend Alan Cressler.  Check out his flickr site for amazing photographs.

kala.koa
nvs. Calico; variegated in color, as of croton leaves, or of a pinto horse spotted with several colors; printed cotton cloth (modern); said also of scars left after impetigo. Eng.

Just like us, each ʻōhia tree is different.  Variable.  And they are adapted, methinks because of their variations, to living in many many different ecosystems and niches.  The desert of Kekahawaiʻole near Keāhole, dryland forests around Puawaa, bogs on the upper reaches of Kohala, massive trees are found in the mesic (kinda wet, kinda dry) forests of Kīpukakī and Kīpukapuaulu in the park, treeline on nā mauna Loa and Kea, the pali Hāmākua where koaʻe lele, and rainforests young and old...all are home for ʻōhiʻa lehua.

Hawaiʻi nei has lots of examples of variability and adaptability:  our three kōlea (the plant ones):  kōlea (Kīpukapuaulu and Kalōpā for example), kōlea lau liʻi (lots on the ʻaʻā flow by Naulu forest in the park), and kōlea lau nui (in the forest from the Devastation Trail Parking Lot toward Keanakākoʻi).  Regular-sized leaf, small leaf, big leaf.  All kōlea.  And there are many examples of other plants that are variable and adapted to life in different circumstances.  Just as we should be.

I know...Sometimes hard.  You get used to something (a 33.5 year old icebox), and then we have to adjust to something new.

OK.  That wraps it up for today...

As always, with aloha, till maybe Thursday or so...

BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com