Garden lookings: defining wonder

Sometimes I just wander in my small garden, just looking. In wonder.

The marvel of colour, texture, shape and form at every turn.

Sunset sacrament: Hilo bay

Introducing Waʻa Kea to the east side, paddling the sheltered waters of Reeds Bay at sunset is a sacrament.

There is a long sea wall protecting the space where yachts of varying vintage are moored. Myself and one other paddle boarder have the water to ourselves. What a treat!

Following curiosity into some channels half disguised by foliage, I paddle into the set of Life of Pi: flowers on the water and such light! Proof that one should always follow curiosity: I paddle through what I think might be old fishponds with expanses of leaf, coconuts, reflections, roots on old walls.

It is as if we have paddled through a dimension into Kerala in India, until Huakaʻi ola, a beautiful white outrigger canoe moored at a taro patch, re-orientates me on the map again.

As Waʻa Kea and I are heading back to the little sandy, white coral beach where we launched, a squally storm sweeps through, making for a very atmospheric crossing of the bay.

Hilo is only about 18 miles from Hale Mahina.. This sunset paddle is so easy to pull off at the end of the day. It was driving against the commuter traffic and a straight run on the road all the way to Banyan Drive and this lovely little launch site.

Mauna Loa solstice sunset from Kilauea

After the solstice hula kahiko performance at the visitorʻs centre, I went up to the viewing platform to greet the volcano.

It was a perfect evening: the almost full moon hung huge in the sky while delicate clouds floated above Mauna Loa

Hula for Pele

Solstice last week just happened to coincide with the monthly sunset Hula Kahiko performance in the Volcano National Park. This monthly event is coordinated by the Volcano Art Centre

I thus had the rare treat of witnessing a young hula group from the Halau Kahula O Nawahine Noho Pu`ukapu in Kamuela, north Kohala. Though my Hawaiian language studies are still in infant stage I think the name of this hula halau (school) translates roughly as the hula school of women who are dedicated (possessed) to dance in desire for spirituality/holiness. Something along those lines anyway.

These performances are scheduled to take place on the pa hula (hula platform) which faces the Haleumaʻumaʻu crater of Kilauea volcano. On this evening, however,  the blessing of lovely tropical rain had the organizers move the dancers (and the raggle taggle crowd of audience) to the shelter of the Volcano Visitors Centre porch. Lighting was a little compromised, space a little cramped,  so forgive the quality of the pictures.

Last weekʻs performance far surpassed my recording of it. Naturally the focus was on chants and hula in honour of Pele, this being her home. A selection of other traditional and original hulas were also presented. The traditions were honoured with authenticity in all aspects.

The four dancers were young but very focussed. Two of the dancers performed solos, one for the first time! Their kumu (teacher), Ana Nawahine Kahoopii,  was superb at coaching and supporting them whilst explaining and interpreting to the audience without compromising the numinosity and sacredness.

One of the lessons from Ana Nawahine Kahoopii that evening: "Pele helps us get over things, helps us move on"

Coconut palm frond weaving: the time has come (the walrus said)

Basketry and weaving with natural plant fibers has long been on my list of things to do when I have time. Now is the time, it seems.

Every Friday the Volcano Art Centre has a free 2 hour workshop on some aspect of a Hawaiian cultural craft or art.

At last weekʻs Aloha Friday workshop I got to weave my first items with coconut palm fronds.

We used fresh green palm fronds. The leaves are strong and supple and lovely to touch. For the hanging basket a section of the frond both sides of the spine was used. For the round bowl a frond was split down the centre spine, then sectioned off. Obviously a big, strong, sharp, knife is a necessary tool for preparing the fronds. thereafter I needed no tools at all beyond my hands. And concentration.

I had a lot of fun and even got to take home two very beautiful and useful objects which are now gracing my new home.

I had a lot of help and instruction from the lovely husband and wife teachers (kumu) so cannot take much credit for the things of beauty which I wove. The little roses were a bonus lesson made from a remnant piece of frond. As the frond dries, these baskets will change colour, fade to brown in all likelihood.

I did find books with instructions in the gallery shop, as well as in the library,  but the craft was made so much more accessible to me by having a live teacher. The other participants in the class - a mix of tourists and locals - made the workshop a social experience as well.