From the Mammoth to the Minute, It’s All Good

[schlomo]

Last week at the beachfront of the Kahala Hotel, only a few minutes from Waikiki, I reveled in two scenic wonders.

In the winter, monster surf pounds the North Shore of Oahu. In the summer, the South Shore gets the brunt of the surf, as I spectacularly witnessed last week. Upward of fifteen-foot waves incessantly smashed against a distant cliff and sent massive plumes of water that cascaded high into the air before dousing the base of the promontory. High tide or low tide didn’t matter: the waves kept thrashing the cliff throughout the day. I was enthralled. I was too far away to hear the roar of the collision, but I could imagine how deafening it was.

When I decided to take a break from this faraway spectacle, I looked down to see a throng of tiny black bodied and red-headed birds swirling just above the ground and then alighting on a small patch of grass. Soon some of them began a roundelay ritual of chirping, hopping, and pecking for grubs. Other birds then joined their brethren in almost fugue-like precision. I had never before witnessed a synchronized array of baby birds, at least 33 of them.  They spent a few glorious minutes inadvertently entertaining me before they swooped away.

I am so fortunate (Covid-19 notwithstanding) that just around the corner in Oahu, the abundance of nature delights my senses and nourishes my spirit.