Photo class-Home

This is what home is to me, the ocean, the roads that lead to it. My home are the highways and back roads that lead to a new town or city. Call me a gypsy at heart or a vagabond of the asphalt. I don’t care because it’s what I love. That is what home is to me.

Oceanside beauty

Love the Land (G and G part 3)

“Every moment and every event of every man’s life on earth plants something in his soul.”

Along the shoreline

During the month of January, I started a personal event called gratitude and giving. It is my way to give back to others for the blessings I’ve received. Through this volunteer program came another challenge. In the next series of events and through Hawaiian Islands Land Trust and group leader, Scott Fisher, I completed another goal.

James Crowe works with projects that deal with restoration spending 95% of his time working and living on the land. His dedication is deep-seated and true. In one day, I experienced what he believes to be true. Every Friday your volunteer day begins at eight a.m. along the coastal area in Waihee. This is a four-hour commitment that requires that you dress in proper work gear. Other requirements are, enclosed shoes, snacks, water and plenty of sunscreen. Once the group gathers, we take off in two trucks to our starting point. In the party are the following:

• Denny with wife Margo who are visitors from Washington state. For Denny, his personal goal is to complete his remaining twenty hours of community service.
• Ward  is a returning student of Hawaiian studies.
• Max, a former civil engineer, recently moved to Maui in August.
• Tom, a local bartender, is a  regular for the Friday group. He grows the native plants used to restore the area on the island.

Sweating the day away

Once we are given our general briefing, we spread out with our team leaders to begin our day. Ward and I work with James who heads to his area, motorized saw in hand. As he cuts away at the snarled, thick hau, our job is to remove the debris that falls. With ear plugs and sunglasses in place, we begin the tedious job of dragging branches and piling them away from the site. The sound of the chainsaw chews through the silence as the sun beams through the new path created in the hau. In retaliation it seems that the tangled branches fault me for doing my job. One limb falls on my head with such force, that it caused me to pause.

During the course of my duties the remaining roots of cut away trees ensnared my feet, tripping me more than once. I begin to wonder if I’m under attack and try to take a different path. After two hours, the noise stops and it’s time for a break. The sun has worn on us as sweat soaks our clothes. The team heads to a shaded area for drinks and snacks.

Denny and Margo

Giving our best

We return to work and view the progress that has been made thus far. One group replant native species into the soil while Wade and I continue to move branches and stack them higher. The sun is brighter, causing sweat to run into my eyes. After a few more hours and another break, the team is exhausted but happy. The chatter of excitement is about the contribution each has made. Once the job is complete our reward is a drive to the Waihee river mouth. There is a breathtaking view towards the turquoise water as classic white waves crash upon the rocks. The fresh air is like a blown kiss from nature to us for a job well done. We all agree that we assisted the shoreline in replenishing itself and that it was well worth it.

Volunteer vacations are a great way to apply your skills to many areas of interest. For me, working the coastal area rich in Hawaiian culture was just what I needed to complete my time in Maui. For further information about the refuge use this link, http://www.hilt.org/protected-lands/maui/waihee-refuge/

The Sand Dancers

Rocky road

At Makena Beach State Park there lies two beaches. One is Big beach and the other, Little beach. In the hushed late hours of the evening, a lush and festive noise rises from a craggy mountainous wall. It entices you to leave the calm of one and the desire of the other.

For Your Eyes Only

After climbing the stone path, you exhale a sigh of relief once you gain footing on solid ground. An unofficial island host presents himself to the women before me, offering them a chance to buy a little happiness. Weed, toke, ganja is for sale. When the women declined, his only

replies is that he just wants people to feel good and enjoy themselves. I laugh and continue to photograph the area from my new vantage point before losing the setting sun. When I turn, literally, the sound of drums direct me where I need to be.

Before moving forward I must mention one thing. Little beach allows nudity and this was new for me. For this first timer it became a comical what or what not to do sense of etiquette when confronted with a naked body. Once I descended the sandy trail, I paused to gather myself. After scanning the area, I viewed several pale bodies frolicking among the ocean waves.

After moving past the bikini clad teens, I continued to move towards the rhythm of the drums. My first mistake was made when I looked towards my right and saw a couple in the full Monty causing my eyes to dart away. After that it was a free for all, some peopled clothed, others partially and yet others skin on skin contact. I continued towards the drum line as dancing, gyrating bodies moved in and out of beat of the music. The smell of

Big Beach

musty bodies and alcohol weaved in and out of the crowd while laughter and conversations reached as high as the music level.

Let the rhythm move you

Dumbec, djembe and congas fill the air with pulsating vibes. The saturated sweaty bodies of the players glisten as their taut muscles refuse to surrender to pain. The crowd begins to thin as the drummers, after hours of continuous playing, finally fade away. Occasionally, someone else will take over where another left off, trying to pick up the pace again. The sunset layers the sky and people begin to form a circle in anticipation of the fire performers.

They come with light, flames that begin to dance in the sky. As the owners of torches and other instruments, the area around us takes on a new canvas. The dancers twirl, jump and spin as the flames twist and turn and look like paintings in the sky. Oohs and ah’s from the crowd entice the players even more and the show continues.

After an hour, the darkness envelops us and its time to go, at least for me. Without a flashlight, I follow the fading glow of flashlight ahead of me while retracing my steps back to the stone wall. The kindness of strangers proved enough light along with a tiki torch to aid several of us down the rough rock path and to the safety of the sand of Big beach. From the wildness of one life to the quiet of another, I can chalk up another lesson learned in human spirit. (click on photos in gallery to enlarge)

H2O Calling (CA chp.8)

Life

For me, water or better yet a connection to the ocean, is very important. The sound of it is not only soothing but it sends a signal that life exists. Below the  currents, the waves, is a different life. You can view the most magnificent fish with the aid of scuba gear or a specimen that only a microscope can bring into view. Either way it all equals life.

The morning catch

Light

Then there is the visual. Power is in the ebb and flow of the tide. Even nature has it share of show-offs; like the waves that boast of  great heights. “Look at me,” it seems to say as they sweep higher and with intense depth for a surfers delight.

Wayne, the morning surfer

Love

Finally there is the sand. By definition it is described as loose, naturally occurring small particles of decomposed rocks, corals or shells. It provides bulk and strength. All I know is that those finite particles are found in several colors depending where in the world they are.  Various shades of grey, white, tan and even a hazy pink. They are the barriers, the traffic cops of the beach. “Only to here,” they warn the ocean, “and no more.” It provides a place to put our back ends, to rest our bodies, to tan or to make love. It supports us when we stand and cast our eyes to the horizon. Sand holds coolness and heat.

Waking at 5 a.m., long before the sun rises, in search for the ocean is normal for me. I’m not the only one that feels this way as I come across the  fishermen that line the piers, casting their lines before the morning’s light. Speak to the surfers that walk into the waters and swim out to greet an incoming wave. Ask the couple that spent the night buried in blankets along the beach.

Morning walks

On this early morning in Oceanside, CA  along the 3.5 miles of beach, there is life. It is in the people and the sand crabs running past my feet. Most of all it is H2O calling, life within reach.

Along the pier