Musings: Slow Saturday

It was a nippy, drippy kind of morning, making it easy to sleep in, so I did, and went out for a walk around 7 under a patchwork quilt sky of white, several shades of blue, and gray. The pink mists on Waialeale lifted long enough to reveal seven waterfalls, then dropped down again, and offered up a rainbow, instead.

Noticed an ironwood tree had broken in half during the windstorm, and the top was resting on the roof of a house that is only occasionally occupied. Now that was a close call.

Heard the big Kukuiula project between Koloa and Poipu suffered extensive damage during the heavy rains, with its newly made road beds washing out completely and the water pipes, which hadn’t been covered, filling up with mud.

That reminds me of a bumper sticker I saw the other day, with blood-dripping, gothic lettering spelling out: Die Developers Die. In tiny print below were the words: Aloha Poipu. Nice knowing you.

The man who told me about the Kukuiula washout, an older local Japanese businessman, attributed it to disrespect for the sacred spots down there, and in particular, misuse of rocks from heiau. I must say, I can’t help but wonder where the pohaku came from every time I see a rock wall being built. Like living or vacationing in burial grounds, it’s an energy source I’d just as soon avoid.

Speaking of bones, and a story I wrote on that topic for Haleakala Tims, a reader posted a comment about a new management firm taking over that paper and ousting Editor Bree Ullman. I was sorry to hear that news, and don’t know how to reach Bree other than through the newspaper, but I know she reads this blog, so maybe she’ll check in and let us know what’s going on. And yes, let’s hope Hawaii hasn’t lost another independent paper. Aside from blogs, they often report stories that aren’t published elsewhere, and will devote the space to look at an issue in depth.

The rain is back and the birds are singing, and after spending two hours on the phone talking to a dear friend, who lives in Illinois and is expecting an ice storm tonight, it’s shaping up to be a leisurely homey Saturday, which suits me just fine.

Talked to another friend yesterday, who is visiting in Cleveland, and I started by saying we’d had some wild weather here. Well, she asked, is it 30 degrees with a 40 mph-wind blowing straight down from Canada and across Lake Erie? No, I had to admit. Then don’t talk about wild weather, she said.

It seems that wild weather, like beauty, is all in the eye of the beholder. And I'll take the Kauai kind of both, thank you very much.