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Falling into the Right Place
Does one ever really choose where they will land or when or even how? Some days I think the universe is absolutely random and other days the order and perfection of the beauty that surrounds me is awe inspiring. At present, I am traveling in Hawaii. My base camp is on the Big Island on the Hamakua Coast in one of the rainiest parts of the world. We are at about 1200 ft up towards the volcano and when the rains come, she comes in buckets and with little warning. She changes from one day to the next as yesterday it poured in the morning and a few nights prior, she pounded on the roof with the greatest gusto as if to wash our little cottage away.
The colors are brilliant and rainbows are a part of every day and sometimes doubles and triple rainbows are to be seen on the distant ocean. Flashes of color and whales tales dancing on the waves inspire even the meagerest of poets. Each flower tells a story in color and design so unique to this island. Horses, wild pigs, and chickens crossing the road are often an exciting surprise at dusk.
The locals welcome us with music and song, food and laughter, and the aloha spirit abides not only the the natural beauty but is reflected in the very culture itself. Fire and drumming, hula and hips and hands tell stories of an ancient place. This is A place still somewhat raw and untouched with so many secrets and history. Sugar is sweet but the story not so sweet. Bananas and coconuts, breadfruit and taro, ginger and lemons, pineapple and abundant fish fill appetites great and small.
The water falls from waterfalls and splashes and finds it's way to streams and rivers and then to the vast ocean. Island life is simple and cradles the spirit in predictability and comforts the soul with beauty which in my experience is unsurpassed in all my travels.
Yet I go home in a short while. How now shall I describe my home? If I could become the water falling and let myself flow to a natural place then I would not have to decide to leave.