A beach to take your breath away. Feet sinking into the plush sand. I was alone in the early morning and I ran to the ocean that seemed to follow me in sweeping fans of water. Transparent, spreading in a a glow over the sand that must have contained some kind of fool's gold whose wet particles glinted. A trail of cupped footprints washing away, poured with light, into the wind tossed laughter, my little girls running behind me. Hanalei. Random poets, wanderers, surfers, natives are beloved by Nature in the form of an all permeating and penetrating Beauty. A seduction. An opening. A flight into the pure air, or a luscious ripening sweetness impossible to describe.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
The road to Hakalau Gulch
This old road leading to Hakalau gulch retains an air of penetration into the primeval. Far from curio shops or idling tourists. Heart of Darkness? You wouldn't think of Hawaii as that kind of place. But places are not quite as they are advertised are they? You'll have to consult Joseph Conrad, Paul Theroux, or that other guy. Francis Ford Coppola.
Away from everything known. That is travel. Where you can't be reached. Where you are gone.
North on Belt Highway from Pakalana Inn
The dark limb of this tree seemed to me to point to the jungle beyond so I took this picture with a Nikon D40. The cheapest of the Nikons. Not fast, but otherwise serviceable.
About 30 minutes North on the Belt Highway that surrounds the Big Island (Hawaii), the Hakalau turn off leads to an old road meandering to the mouth of a river that meets the sea in a spit of black sand. Intrepid surfers paddle to waves squeezed by this narrow bay where a tsunami destroyed a railroad bridge and sugarcane processing mill fifty or so years ago. The twisted wreckage was a "locals" place off radar until it was donated for a park a few years ago. There are now trash cans with liners and the foliage is manicured making for a more civilized if less exotic experience. I have to admit I liked it better before the park, wild, and with a flavor or ruination and engulfment.
About 30 minutes North on the Belt Highway that surrounds the Big Island (Hawaii), the Hakalau turn off leads to an old road meandering to the mouth of a river that meets the sea in a spit of black sand. Intrepid surfers paddle to waves squeezed by this narrow bay where a tsunami destroyed a railroad bridge and sugarcane processing mill fifty or so years ago. The twisted wreckage was a "locals" place off radar until it was donated for a park a few years ago. There are now trash cans with liners and the foliage is manicured making for a more civilized if less exotic experience. I have to admit I liked it better before the park, wild, and with a flavor or ruination and engulfment.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)