Sunday, March 21, 2021 Oia mau nō? Well...

 Yes, the rains continue.  Yes, Pelehonuamea continues her work.  Her work in the Lua is often enshrouded in steamsvaporsfog.  And the chill persists.  And the rain.  Friends maintain a weather station up here.  As of today weʻve accumulated 63.86" of rain for the year, and 25.67" for March.  Weʻve of course surpassed that, but living in rain forest, I suppose we shouldnʻt be surprised.  But it does wear on one.  At least on this one.  We stay warm, entertain ourselves reading, cooking, pecking at the keyboard, whilst we dream of hot sun, white sands, and Maniniʻōwali blue waters.

And Iʻm endlessly fascinated, watching my mind wander.  Given the fairly static state of affairs up here in sodden Keaʻau ma uka, itʻs a bit of a challenge figuring out what to write.  And then...

The hazy purpling of thermal cams, the gusts of wind, and bands of rain, somehow come together.

ʻAle (ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi, rather than pub beverage):

ʻale

1. nvt. Wave, crest of a wave, billow; to ripple, form waves, stir; to well, as tears in the eyes; rippling, stirring. See poale. Many types of billows are listed below. ʻAle lau loa, wave long and large. ʻAle poʻi, breaking wave, ʻAle pā puaʻa, pig-pen wave, of a wave striking the side of a canoe. Ka ʻale wai hau a ke kua, the snow water wave of the gods [it was believed that the gods made snow]. hō.ʻale Caus/sim.; to surge (PH 51). (PCP kale.)

2. n. Gust. Rare.

3. Also are. n. Are, a unit of measure. Eng.

Waves and billows, carried on gusty winds... ʻAle seems entirely appropriate.

Then thoughts turned to ʻale...hmmmm  Hao mai nā ʻale a ke Kīpuʻupuʻu...

as in the mele Hole Waimea (again, "hole" ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi, rather than a pit of some sort).

hole

1. nvt. To skin, peel, file, rasp, make a groove; to strip, as sugar-cane leaves from the stalk; furrow. Cf. papa hole, pohole, puhole, penis. Hole Wai-mea i ka ihe a ka makani (name song for Ka-mehameha I, Elbert and Mahoe 52), Wai-mea strips the spear of the wind [the wind refers to warriors, and the song describes their making of spears]. (PNP sole; cf. Penrhyn sosore, Yasuda 66.)

2. vi. To squirm, twist, turn, fidget; to caress passionately. Cf. pīhole.

huapala.org

And we are pelted and bruised by the rains, however metaphorically.

My understanding is that Waikā is an ahupuaʻa by Kawaihae, that arid place on our northwest shore.  But up ma uka there, is dazzling rainforest.  And Mahiki is by Mud Lane, Hāmākua of the head of Waipiʻo and Hiʻilawe.

Kīhei de Silva writes on Kaʻiwakīloumoku:

Hole Waimea

He is admired for his scholarship, and for the clarity of his writing.

And the illustration of Clermontia kohalae, one of many many species of ʻōhāwai in Hawaiʻi nei, reminded me of the first one I met in the early 70s along the trail between Waipiʻo and Waimanu.  Stunningly memorable dark purple flowers...

A cool thing popped up while googling.  An herbarium sheet from Kew (of the Gardens) in England.

The two following images by Brooks Rownd, on 110611:

So.  Purple...

Weʻve passed Ka māuiili o ke kupulau, the Vernal Equinox which happened at 1137p Friday night.  Kinda hard to track the movement of sunshadows on living room walls when no moʻ too much sun.  But during those rare mornings when the sun does shine, as it did Friday, weʻre happy to see its progress.  

The Equinox is when the sun, at itʻs daily zenith, is directly over the Equator as it journeys north.  Pōʻai waena honua is that circle around the Earth, also known as Ke alanui a e kuʻukuʻu, or Ka piko o Wākea.

OK then.  Time to move on with the day... Let your mind wander, muse, and wonder...

As always, with aloha,

BobbyC

maniniowali@gmail.com