Maiapilo Flowers.  

Doomed Landscapes and a teensy bit about donkeys

Today I parked on the NELHA road and walked south for half an hour, then back. It was 11:00 a.m. so the pahoehoe was really hot: a good workout. I decided to walk there because there was a sign proclaiming the future home of another deep sea water bottling plant and our old friend the red plastic fencing showing the area to be bulldozed. Just south of the NELHA properties is O'oma, possibly the soon-to-be site of the infamous Clifto's development. So really, I walked on two landscapes whose time is about up. The lava is about 2,000 years old. The vegetation is sparse, mainly fountain grass but with some native plants, like maiapilo.

Walking on pahoehoe is always interesting. The liquid forms rise and fall, there are ridges and holes, and sections of nasty a'a, but I've found that there's almost always a way through, if you look hard enough. I saw what looked like donkey tracks, big chips on the lava (goats make smaller chips) and I've been told that there was a herd of donkeys in this area south to Honokohau, years ago (before the highway, the harbor and the airport) so they could be. I know I said no more about donkeys, but just when I think I'm out, they pull me back in.

Reviewing my posts, I see I've talked about doomed donkeys and doomed landscapes. I've got to walk somewhere that's not about to be destroyed soon. I promise.

My wife and daughter inside the pit crater next to the big dish on Hualalai. The clouds come over the edge of the crater and converge downwards. It's very cool, in both senses. 

Same day, same daughter, same turtle. Different angle. 

Sort of political, but not really. But sort of.

Virginia Isbell is running for County Council. Standing out on the highway, waving feebly at passing cars, she seems like a nice old lady. But her supporters were holding signs for her taped to canoe paddles. I wonder if that's a smart idea.

See, Virginia was in the State House years ago (back when she was in her late 80s, I think). Under her "leadership" the state began, but didn't finish, a canoe pavilion at the Old Airport Park. For about 10 years, the cement block pillars have been standing there, pathetically, without a roof on them, like some kind of cheesy Stonehenge.

So that's why I wonder if canoe paddles are really the best accessories for the Isbell campaign. Being, you know, reminders of her most visible failure.

My daughter Jaylen at Kiholo pond with a turtle 

After this post, I will blog no more about the donkeys, forever!

On Friday I was in the Parker Ranch Store in Waimea. I checked out the photographic prints for sale. One photographer (I won't mention the name, mostly because I can't remember it) had little stickers on the back of each print saying (something like) "I don't enhance my photos. They show the world just as God made it."

All weekend this irritated me, in no small part because I Photoshop the bejesus out of my own prints. My reactions, in no particular order:

1. Well, La-di-frickin'-da for you!
2. Don't you see that the act of taking a photograph, in and of itself, is an editing of nature?
3. It's obvious from the color of the sky that you used a polarizing lens. I guess it all depends on what the meaning of "enhance" is.
4. I'm sure that God is very grateful to have someone who doesn't "enhance" his handiwork. Must be nice for Him.

But enough about non-donkey-related subjects. Back to the donkeys. Last time.

The thing was, the donkeys had no defense. They aren't endangered, at least not in the legal sense. (although in the common-sense use of endangered, they surely were, and in fact are now beyond endangerment) They're alien, though not really any more alien than I am. We couldn't use the laws protecting native species to protect them. And the Hawaiians didn't like them. Their hooves wreck petroglyphs. They really do. So all the donkeys had on their side were a few people who thought it was cool to have wild donkeys living out on bare lava, running free. In short, they were doomed. I wrote to Patsy Mink pointing out that donkeys were the symbol of the Democrats, and Patsy bought them a couple years. But now Patsy's well, as dead as the donkey herds. And now I have beaten this dead uh, horse, to the end.

Only a little bit about the donkeys today

Kona Village has five donkeys in a pen! I saw them today as I took the long way around Kona Village to hike the shoreline of the south fork of the 1800 Kaupulehu flow.

Kona Village makes public access folks park far from the ocean, then hike a service road around the edge of the property. I'm sure there's no intent to make public access as difficult as possible; no doubt it's just a coincidence. Anyway, there were 5 donkeys, three grey and two dark brown, in a pretty darn large pen. The looked fatter than they used to be when running free. There's water and shade, things that are in short supply out on the lava flows. I called out a "Good Morning!" to them, and they followed me as I walked along the fence of their pen. [insert philosophical observation about freedom and security here]

After a walk along the beach, where I was careful not to alarm the rich people with the sight of a peasant not dressed in an aloha shirt uniform with a name tag, I reached the 1800 flow. As before, the trail over the rough a'a lava is a minor marvel, and the sea lapped gently against the cliffs and rocky beaches. 20 feet up, the black sand storm beaches stand in contrast to the aggressively sharp edges of the lava.

But now, 40 feet, more or less, from the shore are poles, and flags, and that red plastic mesh fencing, placed in the wonderful desolation of the lava, omens of the development that's coming, and soon. As the guard at the Kona Village entrance said, "They're gonna build some $20 million affordable housing." Wave good-bye to another wild area. Inevitable, probably, but still a loss, to all of us, whether we know it or not.