Alas, this good thing is drawing to a close. This has been a life-altering experience. All my life
Hawaii has been a cliche-destination, and I chose -- for many years -- to pursue destinations to the east of the Pacific Northwest. It took me half a century to finally plunk myself down on this outcropping of volcanic rock that makes up the 50th United State, and it is with despair that I must depart in the morning. I could remain here for the rest of my life and watch waves pound the shore, in as many shades of blue that the eye can imagine. What is it about a breaking wave that is so compulsively captivating? Is it a primal urge that is satisfied at some point along the arc of water and force and roiling foam? Perhaps. And then, perhaps it's better left unanalyzed, better left taken for what it is: you decide. All I know is that something broke loose in me this week, became dislodged in that unnamed grey matter of the brain, leaving in its wake new pathways to the sea, much as lava forges its own fiery metamorphic passage.