Sunday, April 19, 2020. Life is but a dream...

Hmmmm... Still havenʻt managed to get on a schedule, regular or otherwise, for these scribblings.  The weathers have been mostly fine, judging by the percentages of blue skies we enjoy, and the abundance of singing ʻapapane.  Iʻve been sunning outside, warming the body and soul, building up Vitamin D, while enjoying the rustle of lau ʻōlapa in breezes, both moaʻe (tradewinds) and kona (those from the south).  Itʻs a month of variable weather, seemingly mirroring the variability of our lives these days.  

And as part of a still-to-be-established routine, I exercise knee/leg, and walk at the golf course when I can.  While there, at the contact between Maunaloa and Kīlauea, we enjoy expansive views, sky decorated by varied clouds, and the plantings residents care for or, in some cases, let run wild.  One of the latter is honeysuckle.  

One thing I appreciate is how the flowers change color as they age.  Still sweet, they turn from white to yellow.  Much like puakenikeni, the "10 cent flower", as seen below on agroforestry.net, the white just-opened, keeping company with yesterdays golden one.

If left to their own devices, honeysuckle vines are perfectly capable of spreading and climbing, through grasses and up faya trees.  Their wafted scent often surprises, and evokes memories of a trellis at home many decades ago.  Gramma Camara loved flowers in the yard, and honeysuckle was one.  We took a cutting and started our own, along with a cutting of a bleeding heart vine she nurtured.

And talk about color-changing!  Thereʻs yesterday-today-and-tomorrow, from Australian plants online:  

 Some may recognize this, seen in older gardens, mostly in cooler ma uka areas.  Itʻs a tallish shrub-hedge, with dark violet flowers fading to white.  Smell good too...

But the best...The Best encountered on a street at the golf course (remember... we were walking there...) is this:

A lehua ʻalani, an orange lehua, with kukuna ʻulaʻula (reddish pistils) and pōuleule melemele (yellow stamens)...a marvel.  This young ʻōhiʻa grown from seed by a friend with the greenest of thumbs.  She told me that its parent was acquired at Amy Greenwell Ethnobotanical Garden, and Iʻm guessing that staff there found it in the wild somewhere.  Gotta pay attention when weʻre wondering the woods.

Yes.  Lots about flowers.  Theyʻre beautiful, can be evocatively fragrant, and what a wonder full distraction.

When I wrote and pictured hibiscus, I showed maʻo hau hele, our endemic state flower, bright lemon-colored blooms on a big shrub.  The one from this island has pure yellow flowers, while one on Maui has a maroon heart.  The following from Forest and Kim Starr:

And below is a previously shared photo from friend Lisa, with kapa she dyed using the flowers.  

So.  Iʻve been playing with waihoʻoluʻu (dyes) too with a lot of good-natured guidance from Lisa.  Except using our maʻo hau hele, and the result has been a greener tone:

I used muslin to test.  Gather and cook wilted flowers for 10 or 15 minutes.  For the yellow, I wet the muslin and soaked it in the yellow flower liquid...

And then the greenish, I added fireplace ash:

The result was immediately obvious.  Stirred and cooked for not too long, then put in washed and dried muslin, lomi-ed it briefly, squeezed and hung on the line.  Like indigo dye, the greenish slightly oxidized when exposed to air, and turned bluish.  The magics of chemistries.  Iʻm thinking that my color is greener because our flowers lack the maroon center.  It seems to be, so the theory goes, all because of various anthocyanins, chemicals responsible for red or blue colors in plants.  Hmmm...  Lisa suggested I try hau flowers... stay tuned for info about that. 
Lots of combinations and permutations to consider and experiment with.

OK?  Itʻs a spectacular day up here, so Iʻm cutting this short and heading outside.

As always, be well...

With aloha,

BobbyC

maniniowali@gmail.com