mele kalikimaka

I appreciate all the sympathy for my sick interlude. The bug moved zealously into my sinuses Christmas Eve and made me a mouth-breather, but I continue to refuse quarantine. The day began with 90 minutes of meditation at the turtle cove. It was overcast and not too windy yet, making them easier to spot (if not more paparazzi-friendly).



The honu have many endearing features, but coolest of all might be how long they live. I was stirred by the notion that any of these guys, or the whole family even, might be the same one I watched 11 years ago on my first visit to this special place. It's a wonder how any of them live a week in such a ferocious environment, without being smashed against the rocks. On the contrary, something about their sleepy eyes and floppy flippers looks tranquil as they surf inside the crests of the incessant waves. They are like me here, I guess, serene and insulated in a lovely aquamarine bubble amidst the thrash of tropical winter weather and bodily virus. They are hard to turn watery eyes away from, but between them and the horizon there is also a lot of traffic on the humpback highway.



We spent mid-day at the farmer's market picking up softball-sized butter avocados, local goat cheese, and other exotic samples.

 
Another bout of rain began as we lunched under an umbrella at Chalupa's taco truck, whose carnitas tacos are, as the kids say, the grinds. Koloa Mill ice cream cones were for dessert (a terrible idea for the congestion but oh well). I believe it was the first time I ever ate an ice cream cone walking down the road in the rain--it melts it fast!

We cruised around a couple of other close-to-home attractions, like the Spouting Horn, and then, knowing the sky would be too thick with clouds to enjoy the sunset, we enjoyed a late nap instead--beside a wide-open window with the sheer curtain billowing and the rain splashing the sea. These are the indulgences that mean more to me than all the fancy excursions on the island. Awoke to watch a little "It's a Wonderful Life" and a little "Hawaii 5-0" (in Hawaii, see), do some laundry, make some soup, and track Santa's progress on the fun Google ap. He was scheduled to hit Hawaii last of all. Our upstairs neighbors and a few others were ready for him, with colorfully lit and tinseled synthetic evergreens on their balcony or just inside their wide-open sliding door, with the sheer curtains billowing and...you get the idea. Just another holiday on the homestead.

Christmas morning, still overcast. In lieu of a proper sunrise we had a parade of spinner dolphins 30 yards out. Hundreds of them, according to Phil. He's becoming a regular animal behavior expert, topographic guide, and climatologist around here. We just need to find some more consistent vacation pals he can bond with and chat up for the duration; everyone we've engaged so far has been fleeting. Or he could just stick to raw picture-taking, as it captures things quite nicely:

 
 

Comments

  1. what a picture that last one is.

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  2. Sounds like you guys are having an awesome time :)

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  4. Sea turtles! You lucky duck. I'm enjoying reading about your adventures in paradise. Be well.

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