Thursday, December 14th, 2023
Maui, Hawaii
The rooster (or roasters plural) sent out cries just outside our window at the crack of dawn. Roosters, hens, chicks see the islands here, as their domain. Like the boars that were brought over by the Polynesians, barnyard fowl also came over long ago to the Hawaiian Islands. There are no snakes or large game, and the mongoose was also introduced for sugar cane workers who anticipated cobras would be an impediment. But they were not to be found.
Rainbows are plenty. The wind was strong, moving clouds and dancing in the sun like some anonymous force.
For those who came of that era, Jimi Hendrix played his explosive guitar in one of Maui’s distant fields. “We could use a bit of the sixties again”, said my good friend Michael Gilbert, photographer extraordinaire. I didn’t know he was around the corner from our hotel. Michael was referring to the hate that is pervasive in the world. I couldn’t agree more.
Gurudas had taken me to the devastation of the infamous fire in August that destroyed thousands of buildings and people in Lahaina. A resurrection of sorts is now in progress but bitterness lingers in what was a case of nature’s wrath and human error mixed together.
The winding down of a fairly sweet day was at the home of Balabhadra and Gaura-muni, whom I’d known from Vancouver. They and their friends set up a bi-weekly Kirtan occasion for lovers of mantra. I was surprised to see some devotees from Pennsylvania who housed me during my U.S. walk and also a chap from Ypsalanti, Michigan, whom I met on that unforgettable walk. People do get around. It is nomadism.
MAY THE SOURCE BE WITH YOU!
5 km
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