In our thirteenth day on the big island of Hawai’i, we seem to have fallen into a tropical stupor. Ambitious sightseeing plans have been abandoned. Leisure activities seem less and less important. Even to stand up and go inside for a beverage has become a great effort. As I type these few words on the lanai at McLelland Estates near Kea’au, the gentle breeze wafting through is threatening to topple me back into a horizontal position. But I will resist, for the moment at least.
Some readers may find this news surprising. I didn’t talk much about this trip in advance, out of some superstitious fear that if I did it wouldn’t happen. Now that it’s almost over, I feel free to discuss it openly, but I’m not sure what to tell you. It’s all a blur of hard black lava rocks and sea turtles and warm rain and pastel skies. (There was one sort of near-death experience, but the less said about that the better.) There are pictures I could show you, but that would involve downloading and uploading and all those things I just can’t be bothered with right now. Instead I think I’ll return to my twilight consciousness and watch the grass stalks flutter in the wind. There’s plenty of time for the rest of that stuff later.