Dispatches from Volcano: Friday, January 8, 2021. Oia mau...NOT!

Brrrisk!!! Was 50dF at 8a this clear, still morn. Windows are fuzzy with condensation (COLD outside, warm inside, single pane glass, water vapors condense)...when we were small, weʻd write with our fingers on the panes. Now we wake and look while snuggled to see...is it cold??? Yup.

I took the day off from writing yesterday. Kinda plenty going on. I used an idiom "Oia mau nō" not long ago to describe the work of Pelehonuamea. She continues much the same. Today too. But in Washington DC, not so much. I check in once in awhile to learn the latest, but have come to understand that being glued to the TV or radio is unhealthy. Cannot do nothing. Perhaps delusionally, I think that living here in Volcano, so far removed from Over There, life is OK. Of course itʻs not, but...what you going do? Be attentive and VOTE! And continue living life as best we can, thoughtfully and with purpose. And to maintain a modicum of sanity,

noho i waho...a maliu be outside...pay attention

Whether simply strolling, or running, or working in the māla, or swimming, or whatla, get out there!

oia mau nō

idiom. Same as ever, continuing the same, just the same (often said in answer to Pehea ʻoe? How are you?) See ō 2; oia.

And we keep going. Iʻm very visual. I adore interesting photographs; black and white, color, big, small, from the air or on the ground, they all inform. The opening photo on this blog was taken by staff at USGS Hawaiian Volcano Observatory on April 13, 2018, just two weeks before the hulihia began. The catastrophic alteration and obliteration of geographies held dear was...mind blowing.

Two similar views below. The April 13, 2018 one first,

Then yesterday, January 7, 2021. Both from HVO files. Maunaloa in the background, green pastures of Kapāpala Ranch, and two versions of Halemaʻumaʻu, both holding loko ahi, lakes of fire.

Pelehonuamea endures.

A closeup of the moku lana au, the drifting island, along with the pointy West Vent complex, and silvery crusted papa, the flat surface of the loko ahi. The edges of the moku, its pali (cliffs), are 20 feet or so high, according to HVO. And while we can kinda see layers, they arenʻt clearly demarked as are layers of pāhoehoe as seen in roadcuts. Rather, they appear gravely...like the crumble on apple crisp? The pile of tephra that fell the evening of December 20, 2020 as pele flowed into the loko wai (water lake) and exploded.

I enjoy wandering through Hawaiian Dictionaries, flipping back and forth, looking for The Right Word. As weʻve seen, some hua ʻōlelo (words) in ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi, Hawaiian language, have many meanings,

crust

Pāpaʻa. Crust of bread, pāpaʻa o ka palaoa. To begin to form a crust, as a wound, olomio.

olo.mio

vi. Tapering, narrowing; to start to form a crust, as a wound; to go quickly, vanish.

Above, the HVO aerial of the loko ahi taken yesterday, is, I think, quite spectacular! Kama, mouth agape, a scattering of a dozen or so islets, the brightness, top left edge of loko ahi, of West Vent, and the many many pāpaʻa (pieces of crust) in various stages of olomio.

To learn, to encourage careful observation, attempting to interpret and understand what we see... great brain exercises! And photographs can be extremely useful in those processes. Thus, I was REALLY pleased to learn that USGS has just published, [alas, online only],

USGS Professional Paper 1867

to commemorate the 2008 - 2018 lava lake in Halemaʻumaʻu. And my favorite is, "Chapter B", "Views of a century of activity at Kīlauea Caldera - A visual essay". Just click that link when the page opens.

It seems particularly apropos that PP1867 is available now, given the ongoing work of Pele, and Chapter B allows us insight to what She accomplished during 100 years. Change is the only constant, and, I think, especially here, keeps us on our toes!

The UPDATE: