Life Grows On

One garden is coming to an end. Very soon, in the desert, all that may remain is a ghostly image of a formerly lush and bountiful landscape. A minimum of water will keep the drought adapted and drought tolerant who currently dwell here alive. Some will not survive.
















A solid stone structure with no cement, no binding element but gravity can crumble and fall as well. Not quickly. Stones move at a different pace. Earth quakes, water and roots assist the stones in their efforts to hug the earth.

Preventative shoring up at the base and a redirection of water may slow the pace. A return to the desert may bring the stones movement to an even slower pace, closer to a standstill.















Another garden is moving in the opposite direction, an upward trajectory of new growth and new beginnings. Not too long ago it was a dry and rocky desert hillside.















A colorful carpet of foliage and flowers are working their magic to soften the rocks and moisten the dust.















A new garden is born. A new garden grows.

Meanwhile Back at Kalaupapa

Lost in the sensory overload of a trip to Molokai was this video of the beach at Kalaupapa. What would you guys prefer, more buzzing bees on my 'East Palatka' Holly tree or a visit to the beach on Molokai?



I thought you might like a video with an ocean view more.

On Any Given Day

Jim Kunstler of Clusterfuck Nation was on Maui last week to give a talk. I missed it. He posted his impression of Maui on his blog. I have not read enough of his work to state what he is all about, but my limited impression of him is that he thinks the combination of the burgeoning human population and dwindling resources are going to cause some very unpleasant major reorganizations of how humans go about living on this planet.

He was talking about Maui so I had to leave a comment on his blog.

As a resident of Maui for the last twenty years and someone who has witnessed the growth and changes, I would say Jim's assessment of Maui is very accurate. We have been Kalifornicated.

Sorry I couldn't read all 191 comments. I am in the process of filling out applications, writing a resume and cover letter to get a job on the mainland in an undisclosed location. Not that keeping it a secret matters because the same thing that happened to Maui is happening where I am headed.

Why am I leaving? Because I will never be able to own a home or buy land here without making money a primary focus of my life. Not gonna happen. They are packing us in like sardines on the little bits of land open to development and while that makes some sense for city planning and land preservation that isn’t why it is being done. I need more elbow room. A gardener needs land.

If you would like to see some of the beauty of Maui, visit my blog. http://tropicalembellishments.blogspot.com/

In a way it has been a year long goodbye.

It seems my comment worked some cold bitter person's nerves in Connecticut and with a little detective work he was able to e-mail me his impression of me.


Hello, sir. I read your comments on the Kunstler blog and I find you to be endowed with a sense of entitlement. Sure, Maui is super expensive and you don't want to be immersed in the ratrace of making money anymore. I understand.

Maui has tried to seek some balance, forgive the pun, to accomodate visitors and still try to maintain some semblance of paradise based beauty. Sure, you can moan and whine about the Kaanapali strip. Hotels like vertical abortions. Lousy architecture, etc. However, hotels are trying to make themselves affordable to a maximum number of visitors, hence the absence of fine architecture, sorry about the pun.

I've visited many times from northeast Connecticut. I even like Honolulu. Lots there to like, perhaps not by snobs seeking virginal conditions that they can fuck up. However, I like the ambiance and it sure beats the Northeast in winter. You've become a candy ass in your 20 years there. I can also whine about heavy population growth in my hometown in Connecticut, for for what? What do I accomplish?

Maui has reached some sort of equilibrium. It cannot remain uninhabited or foreign and nasty to haoles. The very huge majority of visitors love the place. If you no longer love the place, please move. It beats a zillion other places in the country, ever been to Fargo, ND in winter?

It's regrettable that it no longer satisfies you in your utter contempt of visitors, beer cans, traffic jams in Lahaina. Some things are not pleasant, but a traffic jam in Lahaina beats the hell out of the Northeast in a snowstorm where people can't get to where they want.

I'd go back to Maui tomorrow if I could. However, I'm in my own ratrace for survival here. I can't afford Maui every year, but often enough. If Maui does not suit you anymore, I'm sorry. We all have things forced upon us that suck.

Out of much of Maui, I find Kihei the least attractive. That area is pretty bleak. But, it's nice and warm.

My visits to Maui have left me with a great love for Napili Beach, the Makena golf courses, the views out in toward Molokini. Real fine eye candy.

I have nothing against you, I can understand your angst. Sadly, you seem to yearn for the 1800's with a virginal and untouched country. Ain't gonna happen again.


I was a little taken aback. Offer someone a window on the beauty of Maui and they piss on you.















I know you are not supposed to feed the trolls (note to self: heed your own advice) but I replied to his e-mail.

You have projected an incredible number of thoughts into the mind of someone you know nothing about from a single comment on a blog and spending a little time looking at my blog.

You don't know me or what I think. It isn't wise to think you know what is going on in other people's heads.

And he responded to that with:

spoken like a true champion

Now I am not really sure what that means? Is it good or bad? Whatever!

Let me assure you Bitter in Connecticut that no amount of development or growth can blind me to the beauty and charms of the place where I live.

I have been blessed with the heart and soul of a gardener. I have a strong connection with the aina. I walk through beauty on any given day where ever I am because I am able to see it.

There isn't much I can do about the growth and changes that are occurring planet wide and leaving here isn't going to get me away from it. I can recognize that I am part of the problem. I can control a little how I interact with the earth within the confines of the technological consumer culture I live in. I can also choose not to turn a blind eye to the changes that are going on.

Much to the shock of many refugees moving here from the mainland with fantasy visions of paradise, this is Maui. This is not Mars. We are on the same planet and subjected to the same rules and forces as the rest of you. Maui is not exempt from anything. There are plenty bugs here.

I have had the spirit, gumption and good fortune to live in many beautiful places in my life. My life on Maui is not something I cast aside in contempt and disgust. I will leave here filled with gratitude and buoyed by the love of many friends and family. The universe has told me a beautiful new garden awaits me and it is time to move on.

So Bitter in Connecticut a space is opening up on Maui. You may have it. If you aren't a trust fund baby be prepared to work two jobs or have tons of roommates. Don't forget to stop and smell the Plumeria.

Phallic Rock of Molokai

Ka Ule o Nanahoa

















It is said that this stone can help infertile couples conceive. Women would come with offerings and spend the night with the stone and leave pregnant in the morning.




Offerings at this fertility shrine continue to this day.



Update: March 16th

The backside of Molokai's Phallic Rock looks a lot like a Barcalounger. It would be very easy and maybe even comfortable for a women to spend the night with the Rock and dream sweet dreams of fertility.















If getting pregnant is not what you want then it is wise to carry a big stick with you when visiting the Phallic Rock as this young lady is wise to do.

Ka lau papa

I am feeling a little like some of the ar has fallen out of my ticulate. March has been a very busy month for me and there are lots of others folks I know celebrating anniversaries this month. Somehow I managed to take on two new clients as I near the end here. It is time to get serious about my move and get past the mere scraping of surfaces. The Bush administration continues its free fall into disgrace. I watch in fascination and wonder with each new revelation if this is the one where we will all say enough? A lot is going on and I feel like I am not keeping up. There may not be enough time to enter the great artificial turf war at GardenRant.

So I will not try to rewrite history and provide a link to the National Park Service Story of Kalaupapa. Enter at your own risk.



















You may not enter Kalaupapa without a reservation. Access is limited and guided. You can not roam the peninsula freely. You can enter with permission by plane, by mule and by foot.

We are headed down there on foot.

















This is the pali we are hiking down. This is the pali that helped keep the former patients in. There are 26 switchbacks on this 2.9 mile trail and a nearly 1700 foot elevation drop.

















Surrounded by rough ocean waters on three sides and up to 2000 foot cliffs on the fourth, this was a fine place for dropping people off that you needed to remove from society. In 1865 King Kamehameha V approved this location for people afflicted with Leprosy. The healthy Hawaiian inhabitants of this peninsula would have to be bought out and moved.

















After this imported disease began to spread with vigor on the islands, the growing population of Kalawao, the first leprosy colony descended into anarchy. The patients were left to fend completely for themselves in the wilderness with no hope, no help and only death to look forward to. Stories of the atrocious conditions began to come out and another man came to Kalawao to try and help.




















It is ironic that the culture that brought disease and destruction would come to offer a God in return. There is plenty that can be said about the Church. It has a dubious record to say the least.

But this was a simple man who came to a remote and isolated place filled with disfigured and desperate people. Be not afraid. You are beloved children of the universe, he said. He spent his life building a town and forging a sense of community. He fought to bring the simple comforts we all take for granted to his fellow human beings who had been forsaken by the rest of the world. There is a spiritual power there that can not be denied.





















By the late 1890's the move over to the dryer and warmer leeward side of Kalaupapa began and the Bishops Home for girls was opened.

We were warned to stay off the roadways since the few patients and residents still there were mostly elderly and those that could, still drove their cars. Some nun driving like a bat out of hell roared down the road and up the driveway of the Bishop Home while we were stopped here.

















Simple structures created long ago have begun to show their age. As the population declined with the introduction of new drugs for Hansen's Disease, homes and buildings were left untended.























A very fine house. Like many places in Hawaii cats roamed wild here.















The National Park Service is taking over a lot of the upkeep of an entire small town and has done restoration work on some buildings. This is the town's bookstore.
















Before there was leprosy in these islands, there were heiaus used by Hawaiians for their spiritual practices. On Molokai, the island known for magic and sorcery this heiau on the stronghold of the Kalaupapa peninsula could have been a stage of power.

















Looking towards Kalawao from the center of the peninsula.


















This is where the right hand of Father Damien remains. His body was returned to Belgium in 1936 and his hand was returned to Kalawao in 1995.




















St. Philomena Church that Father Damien helped build.

















Looking east from Kalawao at the dramatic pali and narrow fertile green valleys of Molokai.

















This experience is drenched in religious imagery from an earlier time. That deserves it own post.




















In reviewing and editing the 127 pictures I took I noticed that most of the religious iconography is crooked, slightly off true vertical. I have to wonder about my eyesight. I have to wonder about my leanings.
















In 1969 the order of quarantine for people with Hansen's Disease was finally lifted.

Time to hike back out. Follow along the shore to the rising half circle of the distinctly lighter colored Kukui Nut trees, then 26 switchbacks and nearly 1700 feet in that green section without the vertical ridge lines to the left of the grey faced cliffs on the right side of the picture. It is only a two hour climb.

Molokai Anomaly

I went to Molokai and nothing was there at least from the typical American perspective. At the first stop in town looking for a bite to eat the tranny waitress, who got friendly after we flirted with her, told us that you have to look around the corner on Molokai to see things.

















From the beginning this place seemed to be in a strange time warp. The buildings in Kaunakakai, the main town on the island were dusty remnants from the forties and fifties. We quickly learned that business hours were short and haphazard. Most of the shops closed very early.















A big event here was to go to the back door of the bakery at 10pm and stand in line for fresh hot bread.

















The slow sleepy town was expected. Arriving on the west side it was down right eerie to see the condo/resort complex next to ours abandoned. I couldn’t help but see this as some sort of premonition. It must have been built in the 80’s and now it stood empty. The irrigation had been shut off and the grounds were returning to the dried scrub of the leeward coast ecosystem.

















It was quiet here. The kind of quiet that gets these resorts built, promoted and sold in the first place. Now it seemed strange with these empty abandoned buildings nearby.














The beaches were near deserted. The surf was strong with swirling tides and an approaching storm. A shore break crashed on the sands and many boulders were hidden in the water. It was not the best time or place for a swim.
















The wildlife came close. After seeing many whales on the way over, I saw deer bounding through a field across the road. A flock of turkeys grazed the grounds of our irrigated condos. I was beginning to think of this place as the Wildlife Isle. Later I saw wild goats and long legged burros and heard strange birds.































On the third day the rains came. Driving the south coast to the eastern end we passed through maybe a dozen streams that crossed over the road. The rains poured down from the steep mountains above creating temporary rivers we were obliged to cross if we wanted to see more.













Twice we were told in ancient Hawaiian times Molokai was a place of magic and sorcery. Even back then many Hawaiians avoided this place. Today many of the residents of Molokai resist development and tourism preferring to maintain a simpler lifestyle. Now they have their own kind of political magic and have had some success in bucking the tide of consumption.















This island feels different from the others. There are powerful forces, natural and human at work here. They stand out and are some how easier to see. That old magic lives on in the gene pool, in the waitress serving cheeseburgers in an old bakery and in the tall well built wo/man with strong features walking silently down the road.

Molokai has a dark side. It holds a dark story from the past. There is a place at the base of tall cliffs were strong spiritual forces came into contact. It seems appropriate that it should have happened on Molokai.

Leaving Lahaina

The ferry to Molokai leaves the harbor in Lahaina at 7am before this major tourist town really begins to wake.















The Lahaina Banyan Tree across the street from the harbor covers nearly two thirds of an acre. It is a city park in the courtyard of the old courthouse.


















The Pioneer Inn directly on the harbor has a wild past. The debauchery of drunken sailors during the height of whaling once filled its rooms.

















Looking out at the surf break next to the harbor in the morning light.


















Looking back at historic Front Street in Lahaina Town.

















Headed out to sea with some major force.

















The deep blue of the Pacific for County Clerk especially. The water was very calm that morning. The winds had been near dead for the last two days as a cold front approached and a hot humid vog was pulled up from the south.















The black bump of a Humpback Whale in the miles and miles of blue water. The ocean was filled with whales. We saw dozens. They are very hard to photograph at a distance and when most of their body is under water.

















Molokai appears through the volcanic haze.

Kalawao

The place of exile.