My Date and I spent last week in Maui, the Pacific crashing on the rocks below us each day, humpbacks breaching right and left in the channel between us in Napili and the dark island of Molokai, and a blicky February in The Beav a marginal memory.
But I feel small — because we spent a day at Haleakalā National Park.
Let me put it succinctly. Haleakalā is where you go if, like an insignificant flake of human lava dust, you want to stand in the palm of time.
And we all need to do THAT once and awhile, don’t we?
Postscript: I am back. Thanks to a meet-up with an old high school friend a couple of weeks of ago. She published a book about three years ago -- and then stopped writing. We got to talking about that phenomenon: We-loved-to-write-but-then-stopped-writing-wondered-why-we-stopped-writing-made-a-few-fitful-starts-writing-then-stopped-writing-then-wonderered-why. . . well, you get the picture.
The truthful answer is a cheesy one: Life happens. . . aging parents, kids in town, grandkids in town, new friends, new adventures -- and unfortunately we forget. . . and neglect. . . to share (whether you want to hear about or not.)
But the itch to write is back (if I don't kill my aging MacBook in the meantime). And next time -- we're going over the top -- of Maui.