I haven't been getting out much, so how do I deal with being stuck with the same old boring view? Today I threw a Photoshop "artistic" filter at it. By the way, it looks entirely different full size (click on the image).
One of the great things about being confined to bed (and a chair by the shore) is that I am compelled to look for the beauty around me instead of the beauty "out there."
Hard lava stones had worn depressions in the soft white coral and those indentations were crying out to be filled. I couldn't resist. But instead of carrying them back inside (my mother was a great bringer-home of rocks) I decided to bring a photo of them indoors. Much easier on storage and relationships.
Same with the ginger flower, sort of. I could have cut it and taken it inside away from the wind which was blowing it back and forth, but from the way it glowed I knew it belonged outdoors. Once again a photo was definitely the better choice.
Okay. Here's another secret about me, another one of my oddities.
Gifts. I hate receiving gifts. I hate receiving gifts because I treasure every one and keep every one. Yes, every gift I have ever been given I still have. Until it falls apart, then it gets tossed.
Even flowers. My office doorknob is draped with leis from the past couple of years. And roses. When they droop, the petals go into a carved wooden bowl. And never thrown away.
Please do not give me gifts. I don't have any more room - I need someplace to sleep.
Thanks to Doug I actually made it out of the house today. Boy, have I become a home-body. These (above) are a few of our Shower Trees which will continue blooming like this all summer. I thought you might like to see the size of a typical Shower Tree. Note the ground carpeted with fallen blossoms.
The coinciding of hot weather, ill health and failed air-conditioning has induced in me a magnificent lassitude - leaving me feeling as though I am swimming through a pan of warming milk laced with not-yet-dissolved honey. Incroyable.
It must be summer because the Shower Trees are dropping a continuous rain of flower petals. Every time I look out the window, petals are fluttering past...and it continues all summer long. How can there possibly be that many flowers? Somehow there are and the beauty continues - much to the dismay of our landscaping crew which hates these trees and the constant clean-up.
My buddy, Ben, carried his son on his back to see the sea turtles this morning. Wow. I have a hard enough time carrying myself.
Happy Fathers' Day to all you great dads out there. You make a huge difference in the lives of your children and those around you as well.
Click HERE for more photos from today's ocean swim.
The Tsunami which hit Maui on March 11th inundated the extensive mud flats west of the airport. They transformed from freshwater ponds to saltwater ponds in one day. Now they are drying out which often happens, but this time major salt deposits are being left behind. As the mud dries and cracks, it also turns from brackish yellow to bone white.
I was too busy having fun for my 55th birthday yesterday to put together a blog post. Thank you so very much to everyone who helped make it a special day.
The two Spotted Eagle Rays I saw this morning were rather shy, they kept turning their backs on me every time I got the camera out. And then to make matters worse, Silverbacks turned up (see photo below). Eagle Rays hate Silverbacks and disappear whenever Silverbacks are around. Kind of like me and a healthy-food potluck - where's the door?
This guy advertises that he finds lost wedding rings. I don't know how much he charges, but he sure brings dedication to his search. He and his metal detector were getting hammered by the waves this morning, but he absolutely refused to give up.
No reason for the flower photo except that they are in bloom all over the place right now and I liked the way the sun was shining through the petals.
Finally! Clear water has returned to the south Maui shores. I can't tell you how good it felt to be back in my element once again. Not only that, but we had a truly playful swim today. How could life possibly be any better? Click HERE for more photos from this morning's swim.
What you are seeing here is someone who is absolutely thrilled to be back in the ocean again. Surf has been big, the water has been murky with visibility down to three feet, so the probability of shark attack has been astronomically high. Anyone with any sense has kept out of the ocean (can you believe that I stayed out too?).
I might have been rushing it to get wet again. Even the fish haven't returned to the water yet, and the only turtle I saw was missing both its rear legs - I fear it will never walk again.
A giant Black Witch moth was perched above our garage door this morning. They are so big that I mistake them for bats when they are fluttering around at dusk. Legend says that they are harbingers of death, they are called Mariposa de la Muerte in Spanish, so I may not be much longer for this world. If only this were south Texas. There, if one perches above your door, you will win the lottery.
Moray Eels frighten me, but I wasn't the least bit intimidated by the two Snowflake Eels I saw on my ocean swim this morning. Then I discovered (via Wikipedia) that they are actually Snowflake Moray Eels. Hmmmm. Maybe I need to begin keeping a more respectful distance. They were both hunting on Seahorse turf, I hope the Seahorses are okay (I searched but couldn't find any).
Blennies love to hide tucked into hard coral. This guy felt secure enough to stay put when I took its photo this morning - often they quickly scoot away to the next coral head.
Who needs timelapse? I watched this starfish feeling its way along the bottom, kind of like me when I go to retrieve a piece of popcorn I've dropped on the floor at the movie theater. Yum, extra tasty.
Oh my aching head. A Gray Francolin likes to perch on the fence post outside my bedroom window in the morning and repeatedly screech its call. It sounds like a rusty swing going tee-tar . . . tee-tar . . . tee-tar . . . on and on but getting progressively louder with each swing. Please Stop. And now there are babies . . . nooooooo.
My pounding head did find some respite while I contemplated one of the Grand Wailea's many waterfalls this morning.
