Dispatches from Volcano: June 12, 2020. A few loose ends and recent maps

Brrrr. Not quite sure what to make of the chill in the air...but itʻs not only here on the Puna heights. Up on the ma uka road in Kona ʻAkau HK commented that more than a sheet is needed for comfortable sleep...and this in June! Mayhaps the brisk trades have something to do with it, or those huge spinning high pressure systems we see on the news, sending us cooler air from the north? These times, being prepared for whatla is important. Keep those extra blankets handy.

And I keep my Hawaiian Dictionaries handy. Random musings and wonderings shed light on not-so-minute minutia. This link helps unlock answers to questions we sometimes donʻtr even know we had:

https://wehewehe.org/?l=en

GoExplore! New dictionaries (Mamaka Kaiao), old ones (Andrews, and the update of that by Parker) as well as the P/E (Pukui and Elbert) so familiar to many of us, all help inform. My caveat has always been cross-check, cross-reference, always. Hawaiian is a rich and discerning language, and attention to detail is often rewarded by learning something new.

For instance...Iʻve shared how much I enjoy the fresh look of the forest as pepeʻe hāpuʻu unfurl, displaying their bright, almost limegreens.

In Andrews, we find his "AO" describing "Light; day, in distinction from po. night." But also, "3. Light; applied to the light-green of fresh leaves of plants or trees;..."

But there are a variety of "AO":

To discern correct definition and usage requires lots of page flipping or clicking here and there. The situation is that early writers and those voluminous pages of nūpepa, Hawaiian newspapers, did not need to use ʻokina or kahakō, diacrititical marks used to aid pronunciation, because readers of nūpepa spoke ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi. They knew, from context, what was meant. We need help today.

And with a bit of effort, we find that using the orthography of today, we want to say or write, as in P/E Hawaiian Dictionary,

ʻao: "A new shoot, leaf, or bud, especially of taro..."

And as Iʻve said before, methinks the Andrews Dictionary gives us evocative definitions, and insight into how people viewed their surroundings here in the late 19th century. A slightly richer view of our world. So GoLook, and happy learning.

LOOK:

Our first kahili ginger of the season bloomed last week. Gotta be a new record! I seem to recall that decades ago, kahili were the last to bloom, showing up in late summer.

Other bloomings of note:

For weeks now Iʻve been going to Hilo once a week, mostly for PT. And, being a creature of habit, I had my usual route. Yesterday was different. Errands and socially distant visits took me past the County Building. WOW!

Pink tecoma (Tabebuia sp.) is native to the Central America region. Each tree has flowers a slightly different shade of pink. Stunning...

And pōpōhau (snowballs or Hydrangea) are starting up here in Volcano. Lots of young, whitish green inflorescences thatʻll mature to various shades of blues and purples because of the acidity of our soils. Add lime to turn soil alkaline, and flowers will be pink.

And Stephanotis are going crazy on Hilo fences. No wonder theyʻre popular for June wedding bouquets.

And yes, all the flowers noted above are alien. They were all introduced for various reasons, and many introduced species, plants and animals both, wreak havoc on native plants and ecosystems. But theyʻre beautiful nevertheless...

Recently I showed you our Kamehameha flutterby, one of two natives, the other being our Blackburnʻs koa flutterby. Please visit

Nate Yuenʻs most excellent photographs for more photos and captions. These are by him:

Wings folded, about to sip ʻiliahi (sandalwood) nectar, and another perched on an ʻōhiʻa leaf:

Beauties!

When I was small, working in the garden amongst the vegetables and flowers was a regular thing. My dad would decide what was planted where, and I helped plant, weed, and eventually harvest. We often seemed to have a patch of corn. Planted in a square, so pollen falling from tassels had a better change of landing on the cornsilk, fertilizing and creating kernels. Way better than planting corn as a border and having pollen simply be wafted away by winds.

When we picked and shucked the ears of corn, sometimes weʻd find these guys:

Corn earworm caterpillars munching away on the kernels. Yuk. Theyʻd get squashed. They were accidentally introduced to Hawaiʻi in 1930, and unfortunately they eat lots of other vegetables too.

And the caterpillars are kalakoa...variegated...

And...a few weeks ago, while I was contemplating the pulelehua chrysalis and awaiting the Kamehameha flutterby to emerge, I remembered the above. Weʻd find this things in the dirt in the corn patch while hoeing and weeding. Maybe an inch long, very shiny, theyʻd wriggle when picked up. And yes, theyʻre the 3/4" long pupae, cocoons of the corn earworm moth. Pretty small, with a wingspan of an inch and a half.

Not particularly attractive, and not particularly destructive, they were an expected annoyance.

The sunny yard beckons, but before I sign off, here are a couple newly issued maps by our friends at USGS Hawaiian Volcano Observatory. A handy summary compilation of historic lava flows on Hawaiʻi nei. Always good to remember the possibilities.