Ahhhh....Yes....Itʻs that lack of urgency thing again. Iʻm still around, though it seems that busyness often gets the best of me. I appreciate the "Where are you?" "When are you writing again?" queries. It encourages me, though obviously not enough. Know that if I decide to call it quits, which is unlikely, Iʻll definitely let you folks know.
So. Many of us understand that the longer we live, each day progressively becomes a smaller fraction of our total time on earth. Those smaller and smaller fractions, I posit, is the reason for time flying by faster and faster and... here we are in April. How can???
The walks to Keanakākoʻi continue. Some say that Hawaiʻi doesnʻt seasons. Itʻs always sunny, always warm, hours of daylight or nightdark donʻt vary much, but...I beg to differ. Our subtle seasons are just that: Subtle. Or if you live on the heights or near the edges of rainfall gradients, maybe not so subtle. Our low this winter past was maybe 38dF or so a couple mornings. January was dry and warm, February was cold and wet, March was a blend, and today itʻs blueblue cumulus dotted sky, hot, and gentle breezed.
The angles of our shadows on the road to KKOI shift, temperature warms, and plants do their thing at appropriate times. This has been the time of blooming. We enjoy a moderate bloom of lehua, but not all trees are into it at the same time. Some ʻōhiʻa are laden with bloom whilst neighbors are merely leafy.
And you donʻt even have to try to see lehua. Just...smallkine drumroll...
Be outside...Pay attention Noho i waho...A maliu
Theyʻre right next to the road. And yes, I maybe post too many lehua pics, but they fascinate me. Buds hold lihilihi so tightly packed, itʻs a marvel that they unfurl the way they do. Reminds me of monarch flutterbys we had in the classroom. First the caterpillar, then the chrysallis, then when the adult emerges, they look pretty had it. All wetish limp and wrinkled. Then...patiently we watch as wings dry and expand... Just like these buds...
Above, those pointy things on the underside of the leaf are galls. A bug called a psyllid lays its eggs in leaf tissue, and the plant reacts by enclosing the egg and growing larva in scar tissue: the gall. Galls look bad, but as far as I know, they donʻt harm the plant.
And then we have lehua mamo. "Mamo" after the color of the feathers of our extinct manu mamo, formerly cherished for featherwork.
And too we have ʻalani (orange). The poly-morpha-ness of ʻōhiʻa constantly amazes. Genetic diversity in the time of Rapid ʻŌhiʻa Death (ROD) is a comfort. Not all ʻōhiʻa will die. There are varying degrees of resistance, just as we enjoy endless shades of color, from the palest of yellow, to the darkest reds, and Iʻm pretty sure I pointed this out before, the liko (leaf shoots) too are just as variable.
Then lihilihi fall off, leaving seeds to develop in their pods. Below, a few pistils hang in there.
And pods swell and fatten...
ʻapapane thrill
breezes waft lihilihi
ʻōhiʻa full bloom
Yesterday I decided to do a sunrise at Keanakākoʻi. Tried the day before, but my timing was off a bit, and I missed the pinking of the mountains. Got to the parking lot at 530 yesterday morning: the cacophony was astounding! Dawn had just broken, and it sounded as though every single bird in the forest was competing for The Loudest Voice. REALLY loud. Twas an amazement. And as I walked and sky lightened, flocks of ʻapapane with their intermittent thrumming wingbeats were there and here. "Flock" in this instance = ten or so. And the same thing has been happening at Kawaiʻapapane too. Cool craziness.
And thanks to JT, there I was glorying in breathtaking beauty. Looking at Maunakea, peeking over the horizon.
The closeup above: Kūlani is the dark antennaed puʻu at the right. I think that the two smaller puʻu seen below the summit of Maunakea are Kīpū (on the left) and Lālaʻau (right).
Kūlani, at an elevation of 5,500 feet, perhaps because of its prominence, is an important geographical boundary marker. Itʻs where the moku (districts) of South Hilo, Puna, and Kaʻū meet, or if you choose, where the corresponding ahupuaʻa of Waiākea, ʻŌlaʻa and Keauhou are pili (come together or join).
Just below, a blooming pūkiawe. Pua are teeny tiny, phonecamera and operator not so great, thus the poor quality image, but I trust that youʻll get the idea.
Pūkiawe is a shrub with fruits ranging from white to dark red. Lots of Christmas-time wreath makers use it because the plant and its fruits are dry, and hold up well in arrangements with no water. Formerly, itʻs said that if an aliʻi wanted to mingle with makaʻāinana (common folk), pūkiawe was burned in a small fire and aliʻi walked through the smoke as a purification ritual.
And below, the cauliflory-ness of kōlea lau nui, wherein the flowers grow and bloom directly out of branches. Dark purple fruits are used to make a dye for kapa, bark makes a red dye, and kōlea wood is used for various purposes, including its charcoal, used as a pigment too.
And while not a "bloom", our hāpuʻu and ʻamaʻu continue to unfurl their pepeʻe. First below, pepeʻe (fiddleheads) of hāpuʻu pulu still covered with that fuzzy pulu.
As fronds unfurl, pulu is torn, and mats of it flutter in breezes.
ʻAmaʻu is smaller, its pepeʻe are more tightly wound, and rather than pulu, we see golden hair.
OK...And seen on a drive to Kealakekua and Kalukalu several days ago, ʻūlei and māmane in Kaʻū surprise with their abundance of bloom. No pics right now for those. I wonder if the lehu spewed last summer helped fertilize everybody?
And perhaps that reference to lehu and The Three Months will serve as a modest segue.
Iʻve long been perplexed by what seems to be transpiring (or not) in our County government. An issue is a request, apparently granted, for $50 MILLION dollars to do something or other with Highway 132. Thatʻs the section of road between the "Y" at Lava Tree State Park, and the 4-way intersection near Waiapele (Kapoho Crater).
Our recently remodeled Saddle Road, according to our State Dept of Transportation, cost $316 million for 48 miles, a little over $6.583 million per mile. Hwy132 is buried for 3.2 miles (two separate sections with a substantial kīpuka in between). That works out to $15.625 million dollars per mile. How Can??? And the bigger question is WHY? All of Highway 132 lies in Lava Hazard Zone Number One. The worst. Guarantee whatever is made as a fix will get buried again.
And the folks at Puna Geothermal Venture, working with residents of said previously lavalocked kīpuka, successfully opened a temporary road through PGV and Kapoho Land Company property (mahalo Lono Lyman) on April 1, 2019. No joke.
And I heard from a reliable source that The County signed a $45,000 (Forty Five Thousand Dollar) contract with a questionable company based on Oʻahu for a LIDAR survey of the flow field to be used in construction planning for Hwy132. Why? HVO likely has gobs of LIDAR data, and even if they perchance donʻt, whatʻs wrong with a GPS on the dashboard of the bulldozer to show the operator the centerline of Hwy132?
Iʻm really hoping that my math is seriously wrong, or I misread something, or misheard something, or maybe even dreamt something that seems like a version of reality.
A week ago, I emailed all Councilmembers and all their primary staff, asking for clarification on the numbers above. So far, "Crickets" to use a current descriptor. Nothing. If my e-box fills up during the week, rest assured that youʻll learn whatever I learn.
While I continue to hope (gotta stay optimistic!), Iʻll be away for a week or so, returning to my desk on the 18th.
As always, with aloha,
BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com
