I had begun working my permanent schedule which includes Saturday, but I arrived home with energy and a few hours of daylight remaining. Mike suggested that we drive north from our home and "see what we can find." I was game, so off we went. We climbed into the jeep and headed towards Kohala. The landscape along this drive is fascinating and incredible, although very different than most think of when they picture Hawaii. It can be barren in places, with it looking like small boulders heaped together, or as my mom put it, "like someone came through and stirred up the dirt with a loader just to let it sit in piles to dry." Long-leafed bunches of grasses grow over some of this area while other parts are still bare a'a lava. Here is a photo of some of the lava flow that we took in 2007. (The white "graffiti" is made from coral. That's another blog for another day!)
If you're interested in better photos, then search "Mauna Loa 1859 lava flow" and look at earthmagazine. org.
On the afternoon that we drove along the coast, it was sunny and beautiful. We were enjoying the change of scenery and had driven about 45 minutes when I saw a sign for a beach. I suggested that we take the turn. We came to a spot called Hapuna Beach. It was beautiful! Long, white sand beach with a fairly calm surf. We were not prepared for a swim but we enjoyed walking along the beach and enjoying each other's company; in fact, we enjoyed each other and the beauty so much that we forgot to take a photo of the beach, but at the last minute we did take a quick selfie.
After our walk in the soft, warm sand, we got back in the Jeep and headed toward a bay that we had seen signs for. We ended up not stopping there, but instead kept going forward until we came to the end of the small road. It reached Puako Beach Road. We looked both ways and saw a sign that said, "Dead End." So, of course, we went in that direction. It was headed makai (that means toward the ocean) and we guessed that the drive may be scenic.
The road guided us, bending and twisting, through an eclectic neighborhood where the homes each had their own style. One of our favorites was what our realtor described to us as a "pod home." This is a style of home that has reached a small level of popularity here on Hawaii. Imagine every room in your house being separated into separate buildings. There are beautiful gardens and paths that lead you from one to the next, but to go to each room, you must walk outside and connect with the environment. That is a pod home.
Continuing around the next bend, we came upon another surprise. From the corner of our eyes, a large grey creature appeared. He crossed the road quickly to smell some flowers. We never expected to see a turkey running wild in paradise. But here's the proof:
We also began seeing signs that said, "Shoreline access." We originally had no intention of stopping at one, but we could get a peek-a-boo view of the water between the houses and at some of these narrow access points. We noticed that the sun was about to set, and just at that moment, we came to another shoreline access. I suggested that we stop there to watch the sunset. We turned into the small parking area and noticed there was one person on this coral "beach." I felt guilty as we approached her because she was sitting, with books in her lap, enjoying the sunset in her solitude. I didn't want to disrupt her time, so we kept to the other side of this small area. We said our polite hello but tried to give her space.
A few minutes later, as the sun's full belly is just touching the horizon, we hear a small voice. "Would you like me to take your picture?" The sun was really close to setting, and it was beautiful. The small bay that we had reached made for calming waters whispering over rocks. There was a gentle breeze and the sun was a beautiful, indescribable pink, coral, orange orb disappearing over a lilac and blue ocean. We accepted her offer and so with our iPhone, she took this photo of us.
You will have to imagine the sun as I've described it; the iPhone knew it couldn't do justice, so it showed the gate to heaven behind us instead. We thanked her and gradually began small talk with her. She was from Honolulu and here to go to Kalapana to see the ocean accept the flows of lava from Madame Pele. She had hiked the 8-9 miles a day or two before and had since been showing herself around the island. She was staying with "a friend of a friend," just across the bending road. We began taking photos of her with her phone and she of us with our phone. Here is another.
Our conversation continued long after the sun had hidden herself under the horizon. As we talked, the sun continued to light the sky in a magnificent show of her pleasure for the day. It is amazing how the sky actually gets brighter as the sun sets further. Here's a photo I took. The iPhone is not made to capture such beauty, but at least you get an idea.
It was quickly growing dark and just before the sun turned her lamp off for the night, our new acquaintance asked to take a photo with us as well.
And so began a new start from a dead end. We continued to talk until there was no more light, and then continued some more. Before we knew it, we were asking our new friend if she wanted to go to dinner. She agreed and we went to an absolutely divine restaurant at Mauna Lani shops called The Blue Room Brasserie and Bar. We spent the next couple hours talking and getting to know each other while sharing food from each other's plates. At the end of the evening, Mike and I were absolutely thrilled about our new friend. We have actually already visited her on Oahu where she introduced us to some parts of the island we had not discovered during past visits. Our new friend is an extraordinary reminder of what it means to live Aloha.
It is only on Hawaii that there really is a new friend around every bend, and at every dead end!
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