I always said I could write about anything. Give me a picture, subject, predicate. Poetry or prose, grant me a sunny day and I’ll witness miracles all around that flow effortlessly from my pen. Writing is what I have always done and will always do, regardless of the circumstances. And yet, perhaps like many these days, I feel overwhelmed with changes. Movement. Every time it feels as though I’m rooted to the earth, up I’m pulled and whisked off to yet another unknown destination, whether physically, mentally or emotionally. Yet these days despite the chaos, I am much less rattled by trivialities. As though jelly could inexplicably morph to granite.
What I can relate with impunity is that I have grown tremendously in the past couple of years – in areas of life least expected. Sensitized in ways others might feel overarching, I am tapped into nuance the way many realize they are capable of only under considerable duress. Tongue in cheek, my youngest labels me high maintenance. And perhaps that rings true, though it’s not as if I can simply flip a switch and turn it off, despite occasional times of wishing it could be so.
Forty-five days ago, we sold our house and moved to another location, a rental this time. Higher in elevation than before by a thousand feet – which is everything in Hawaii when it comes to weather – we have been chilled to the bone most of the summer. Mainland friends report scorching heat from west coast to east, so we are grateful for a temperate if chillier and wetter climate than we are accustomed to. Rains have fallen unceasingly – uncharacteristic of an area predisposed to drought over the past dozen years.
In two weeks’ time, we will be moving yet again. Only this time we will be losing twelve hundred feet of elevation, which guarantees warmth at least, if not dryness. For we will be migrating ever so slightly east from our original windswept north shore location – to Kapa’au from Hawi – thus ensuring a bit more rain and a bit less wind, gracing landscapes green year-round and lending a different feel to the very air we inspire. A unique aura pervades this new-to-us area, and I’m really looking forward to gathering what fruit falls from that tree. Of course that’s merely metaphor.