Friday, April 30, 2021. Remembering

quotidian lives 

busy boring tumult calm 

remembering then

At 2 in the afternoon of April 30, 2018, the floor of Puʻuʻōʻō began collapsing.  It was a rainy foggycloudy day, and webcams on the rim of the crater couldnʻt really see.  But for monitoring instruments, coupled with geologists observations of a rising crater floor the preceding days, those moments may have gone unnoticed.

Starting at about 2:00 p.m. on Monday, April 30, marked increased seismicity and ground deformation indicated that the expected change at Pu‘u ‘Ō‘ō was underway. Visibility was nearly obscured due to poor weather conditions, but a brief clearing at 2:12 allowed HVO's webcam to capture this image of the crater, showing that part of the crater floor within Pu‘u ‘Ō‘ō on Kīlauea Volcano's East Rift Zone had collapsed. The crater floor continued to collapse for several hours therafter; smaller drops in the crater floor have likely continued through today (May 1).

And so began the most recent hulihia in the history of Kīlauea.

huli.hia 

Pas/imp. of huli 1, 2; overturned; a complete change, overthrow; turned upside down. Chants about Pele with verses beginning with the word “hulihia” are referred to as hulihia. See prayer, kualakai 2. Hulihia ka mauna, wela i ke ahi (PH 204, 225), mountain overturned, hot with fire. Hulihia Kī-lau-ea, pō i ka uahi (PH 197), Kī-lau-ea [Volcano] is overturned, darkened by smoke. Kaua hulihia, revolutionary war. (PNP fulisia.)

Hulihia are catastrophic overturnings.  They happen infrequently during recent history, but they reoccur.  And without our ability to remember, to consciously recall, itʻs easy to go on with our daily, quotidian, lives as if nothing happened.  Sound familiar?  Go back and re-read some of my posts.  Eruptions on the Lower East Rift Zone of Kīlauea have had great impacts as long as pele has flowed.  Maybe wasnʻt too bad before, when not too many people lived there, and infrastructure was minimal.  When Pelehonuamea visited, folks moved, recognizing that the ʻāina, the land, was Hers.  Today?  Not so much.

We need our roads back.  Gotta reopen the boat ramp.  I gotta rebuild my house.  And an acquiescent, compliant government, not wanting to ruffle feathers or make tough decisions, complies. 

Or the hulihia that is the CoViD pandemic.   Hawaiʻi Nei empty of tourists.  Devastating, catastrophic economic impacts.  Weʻll change.  We had too many anyway.  Weʻll re-envision, recalibrate, reassess.  For the good of the ʻāina and for the keiki.  And for a more sustainable and resilient economy.  And what?  What change?  

So I remember and listen to music.  Various words in ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi are used for the English "remember" or "recall".  GoLook.

In Andrews 1865 Dictionary:

HOO-MA-NAO

v. See MANAO, to think. To turn the mind upon; to call to mind; to cause to consider; to remember that which is past.

Or in Pukui and Elbert:

remember

Hoʻomanaʻo, hoʻomaopopo, hāʻupu, ʻhaliʻa, hāliʻaliʻa, haili, hoʻonoʻonoʻo, paʻanaʻau. See recall. Fondly remember, haliʻa aloha. Remember imperfectly, paʻa pāhemohemo.

And I was triggered by "hāʻupu", and started almost mindlessly humming and la-la-ing...

Again, in Andrews:

HA-U-PU

v. To excite; to stir up, as the affections or passions.

2. To suffer with anxiety; to be much excited or moved; ua haupu honua ae la ka makaula, the prophet was much excited. Laieik. 157.

3. To rise up suddenly in the mind, as a thought.

4. To stir up one to recollection; alaila, e haupu ia lakou me ka homanao.

His "old-fashioned" descriptions always seem to strike a chord...

And I latched on to "ʻupu aʻe ka manaʻo....", as in the Pukui and Elbert dictionary:

ʻupu

nvt. Recurring thought, desire, attachment, hope, expectation; to desire, long for, covet, keep thinking of with anticipation. Cf. hāʻupuʻupu, nahele. E ʻupu aʻe ka manaʻo e ʻike i ka nani (song), thinking and longing to see the beauty. ʻAʻole nō i ʻupu iho, komo mai ana ka mōʻī wahine, in a moment, the queen entered [lit., not indeed a thought given]. Cf. ʻū 2. (PPN kupu.)

And went back to the mele "Aliʻipoe".  Another repeated post, but why not?

Aliʻipoe by The K Sisters

The K Sisters are Mabel Kekino, Vivian Kahale, Kathy Kane (Kawelo), and Dorothy Kalima.

Source: An old love song from Kauaʻi - The seeds of the aliʻipoe are used in the laʻamia calabash for the rattle of the ʻulīʻulī. Translated by Alice Nāmakelua. Hawaiian Text edited by Puakea Nogelmeier

And, Robert, what does this have to do with the third anniversary of the Hulihia of 2018?  Well...weʻre remembering...and my ADD enjoys flitting topic to seemingly unrelated topic, though of course in my mind theyʻre ALL related.

And so we remember.  During my walk on April 27, 2018, at 1041a.  On Crater Rim Drive, as far as we were allowed to go.  Foreground lava is September 1982, and note the bloom on ʻōhiʻa.  Just like those I posted yesterday.  The Halemaʻumaʻu Parking Lot is was at the end of the straightaway.

And just before Puʻuʻōʻō was in the throes, from an HVO tower webcam.  The ʻ82 flow at the top of the frame.  Location of above photo obscured by fume.

I was at HVO on May 2, 2018 and took this at 1201p.  Light Kona winds, voggy, and then She disappeared from view in Kaluapele till December 20, 2020.

And then...  The ʻ82 flow is on the bottom of the image below, captured on 1/2/20, as the loko wai, the water lake, in Halemaʻumaʻu was growing.

And down at Keahialaka, Puna ma kai, on the Lower East Rift Zone of Kīlauea, the next two are views from opposite directions, but you can match the houses...

On May 6, 2018, by HVO, just after Fissure 8 (Lua ʻEwalu) was born.

 

And below, another from HVO on March 4, 2021.  Lua ʻEwalu.  Itʻs my property and Iʻll do what I please...Iʻll bulldoze a road, and flatten a small area for...

And lives do indeed go on.  But it seems that so many have lost, or ignored, the ability to remember.

All we can and should do is be in the moment.  What going happen?  I dunno.  When She going stop?  When She stop.  How long goinʻ lasʻ?  Till She stop.

Again, from HVO...

Iʻm happy that what started as a mistyfoggy day has turned, for the moment, roof-popping sunny.  

In just a few hours, from steam, mist, vapor-filled,

to clear.  I going walk!

OK...Please... try, and try hard, to remember, recall, and marvel at our world.  The works of Pelehonuamea are unceasing...

As always, with aloha,

BobbyC

maniniowali@gmail.com

April 29, 2021. Thursday. Blooming, Unfurling, Rising...

 I know.  Itʻs been awhile.  Many seem to understand that "retired" does not mean sitting in a rocking chair and whiling the days away.  Those of us who are "retired" are in fact busier than when we were working.  Perhaps thatʻs because we have lots more options to choose on the "What Shall I Do Today?" menu.  We may end up saying Yes more often than we should, but ultimately, I believe, our varied activities help maintain our edge...

So.  We survived a very very wet winter up here.  More than five feet of rain during three or so months.  Temperatures often did not rise much above 60dF during the day, but here we are.  Early April was changeable, with some sun, more rain, and uncertainties.  April 12 it was 43dF when the sun rose here at Keaʻau ma uka, and a week later in Hilo it was ikiiki hot sticky summer.  Keeps us on our toes.  

And the verdure in our verdant surroundings is happy.  Friends share that often dry lee slopes of Hawaiʻi nei are also burgeoning with growth.  Lehua, the floral symbol of our fair isle, is happily showing off and brightening our days.  Red stamens blanket windshields and color pavement.  In Hilo where we often see yards decorated with ʻōhiʻa bearing pua lehua of both red and yellow, the punctuations of color are welcome against green backdrops.  

It all starts with ʻōpuʻu.  Tight buds, often cloaked in white fur.  The tree below is a pubescent one, wherein the ʻōpuʻu, liko (leaf shoots), and leaves themselves are downy.

On another tree on the way to Keanakākoʻi,  white-downed sepals enclose red-tinged petals.  The bigger-gauge pistil unfurls first, soon followed by a multitude of lihilihi, delicate pollen-topped stamens.

A brief refresher:  pollen from stamen tips lands on pistil tip via birds like ʻapapane as they feed, or wind-rustling, or... A pollen tube grows down in the pistil, and fertilizes eggs in the ovary.  Work accomplished, stamens fall off followed by the pistil, grow and seed capsule fattens.

Photo above, and the three below were taken at Keanakākoʻi last week.  Above is a basic greenish lehua pod.  Sharp eyes can detect white fuzziness.

Weʻve shared that ʻōhiʻa lehua (Metrosideros polymorpha) is indeed many-formed as its species name (the second Latin name) tells us.  Trees are exuberantly individualistic.  Though differences may be subtle, each ʻōhiʻa is unique.  Just like us.  Below, the pods are rust-colored, and we observe lehua in various stages of life.  

Take time, make time, to really SEE.  Subtleties surround us.  And because I canʻt help myself:

noho  iwaho   ⧫   a  maliu     ⧫⧫⧫     be  outside   ⧫   pay  attention

At Keanakākoʻi...because vehicles havenʻt been allowed since March 2008, when THAT eruption of Halemaʻumaʻu began and toxic fume blanketed part of Crater Rim Drive...the interim has allowed and encouraged Hiʻiaka, a sister of Pelehonuamea, to make herself known.  

The kuleana (responsibility) of Hiʻiaka is to make green her sisters creations.  But.  As we see above, Hiʻiaka not only works on pōhaku (hardened lava), but also on crushed and cut pōhaku...gravel asphalt and curbstones.  What a delight to see the line of young ʻōhiʻa in full bloom!  The one in the foreground is the rust-podded.  And the hump on the horizon is part of the 1974 spatter rampart.  Lava erupted there fed the pāhoehoe flow just on the other side of the railing.  GoLook! 

And looking and paying attention here in the forest, itʻs pepeʻe time.  Coiled fronds of hāpuʻu are rising and unfurling.  I never tire of watching and tracking their progress.  Who says we donʻt have seasons?  We of course do, but theyʻre much more subtle.

The three following yardphotos depict different stages of growth.  It takes months for everybody to show off their fresh limegreen fronds, each proceeding at their own pace.  The tight three was on February 8.  And please note the different colors and stages of bases of fronds from previous three seasons.

Then two pepeʻe hoʻoluʻe (unfurling as a flag) by my pahu wai (water tank).  Enjoying seeing wisps of pulu attaching one to the other.

And, unusually, SEVEN rising on April 26.  Kinda hard to photograph so theyʻre all identifiable, but there are indeed seven.  The trunk of this hāpuʻu is especially thick, and I believe thatʻs why there are so many.

And yes, Pelehonuamea continues her tireless works.  The link below, to the HVO webpage, is FULL of all sorts of info.  Bookmark and peruse at leisure.

Hawaiian Volcano Observatory

The UPDATE shares that Pele may be slowing down a bit.  Please, no predictions.  They invariably prove futile.

The amount of SO2 (sulphur dioxide) as measured is related to the effusion rate, or the volume of pele erupted.  SO2 is a gas dissolved in magma, and is released (exolves) as pele reaches the surface.  More pele = more gas.  

And, when we see thermal photos of the loko ahi held in Halemaʻumaʻu, differences are notable.  Dates are at top left of images.  The first two show moku lanaʻau, the drifting island, in my eyes, the shape of Kamapuaʻa, the elemental suitor of Pele who shape-shifted from human to eight-eyed pig.

And I pray the below works...For those enamoured of movies...the eruption so far, for you folks with quick eye reflexes.  No get dizzy!

And the same angle, but with a slightly expanded view.  The loko ahi is the paler grey at the lower part of the lake surface image.  

Meanwhile, overhead awesomeness.  Weʻve just passed the fullmoons, but...

First below, a brightly moonlit night from the Maunaloa Strip Road.  A ball of peleglow at the left, while on skyright:  Hānaiakamalama, the Southern Cross!!!  Alpha and Beta Centauri are the pointers.  Bright stars on the left are part of Scorpio.

And...mahinarising over Mokuʻāweoweo.  The "extra" moon below is caused by camera lens refraction.

For those keeping track, tomorrow marks the third anniversary of the start of our most recent hulihia.  And yes, Iʻll be posting a commemoration.

Till then, be well.  Go get your shot(s).  Iʻm pau with my Pfizer.  All good, no issues other than small kine sore arm.

As always, with aloha,

BobbyC

maniniowali@gmail.com