The scene of Sustainability

                                                            

Let me set the scene for you...

The house is a quaint blue cottage nestled in the charming ranch town of Waimea, not too far from Kona, on the Kohala coast of the Big Island. More curvy than coastal, it is a haven of rolling hills and when I stand at the top of the large mound on which this house is perched, I look out to the great Mauna Kea, a dormant volcano that lingers a hefty 13,000 feet above sea level. Atop this mountain lies one of the worlds most respected observatories, where the night sky is aglow with the sight of every star in our galaxy. Long telescopes dart into the abyss, allowing the human eye close contact to such a mysterious unknown. 

The neighbors have close to a dozen horses and wild turkeys are a known nuisance. The mossy greens that decorate the foliage stand stark against the earthy browns that blend well in this environment. Trees speckle the foothills and line the streets and canopy the highway...their classifications range from all types of pine. A perfectly sculpted African hut manifests in the front yard. Decorated with a hint of Christmas, backgrounded with a subtle mini waterfall. A tiny oil lantern adorns the centerpiece of the table, lightly calling for someone (I wonder who?) to sit and drink some wine on its chairs.

Not your average scenery for Hawaii, I know, but stunning nonetheless. I woke to a chill in the air, similar to a damp Seattle. In the mornings, misty dew hovers until the bright pacific sun burns it away. The clouds that drape so elegantly over the hilltops disappear until the late afternoon temperatures draw them magnetically back, creating the feel of a steamy sauna. The sun is intense. It pummels my pale skin, coaxing color into every layer. A burn is inevitable. 

A short drive north will bring you (me) to a trail head that will lead the most beautiful hike I have ever taken...time after time. It remains my favorite after my 25 years on earth. The Waipio valley renowned for breathtaking, lush inlets encompassed by staggering cliffs is blanketed with black sand beaches. It is no joke when it comes to your calf muscles and its steep descent but the pain soon falls inferior to the sight, and it remains in daydreams for eternity. I shall tackle it yet again tomorrow...and numerous times throughout the month of December. It will renew my outdoor deprivation that New York snuck away from me, as quick as a subway car.

Waipio Valley and my new backyard

Of course,,,there are mosquitoes. I already count three bites on my feet.

The dump yard, where all garbage is collected and later sent to a landfill where tourists don't exist, is a quick drive from the house. Today, the yard was full of eager recyclers, queueing to tally up the cost of their recycled goods. A local non-profit collects certain marked bottles and cans and redistributes money to those that take the time to make it a priority. A large hairy man stood to my right as we both waited to sift through our buckets. The scent of aged beer wafted as he dug out what looked like thousands of old Coors bottles. Each time he bent over, his half-smirking butt crack peeked out to say hello. His belly was so big that when he bent over, face first into a sea of stale booze, he needed to lean slightly to his right so that he could reach. His buckets overflowed with glass of every color. The workers weighed him in at somewhere over 100 pounds because he got a whopping $38.92. Marius and I stepped up and received a measly $4.09. 

The drive back from the dump yard revealed multiple million dollar estates dotting the landscape, quite controversial with local land management. For years, Hawaiians have been screwed by the white investor who have been more than eager and willing to pillage their land. I have noticed from my last visit that development has trumped conservation. I was told that there is very little public beach front available...it is all spoiled by the classy and segregating resorts. Marius shared that this island, this particular town of Waimea, has the single highest cent per kilowatt ratio in the country...most likely the world. Meaning, that even though Hawaii sits on a gold mine of geothermal energy, an unbelievable source of renewable power, it does not tap it. The community breeds big time power companies who are unwilling to make the shift to more sustainable outlets.

Back at the house, two garden beds lay in rectangular fashion built by Marius' two hands, growing lettuce, fennel, carrots, beets, spinach and onions.  To the side of them sit three Japanese green tea bushes simply begging me to dry, crush and brew their leaves. And just behind those, is a large black coldrun of compost, peels and scraps of fruits and veggies mixing with the great nitrogen compound to create a unique fertilizing concoction. If the state of Hawaii isn't sustainable,,,Susan and Marius certainly are. 

So, for the next few weeks, I call this home. I will keep the fort tied down and anchored while Susan and Marius adventure around South Africa, crossing my fingers that another beam shattering, wall cracking earthquake doesn't hit while I am here. I have begun what I hope will turn into a marathon of purely enjoyable reading. I decided to kick it off with Twilight, the new 4 book rave starring all things high school. With shame I admit this: I started it yesterday and will finish it before I go to bed tonight....it is that good. I haven't read a book this fast since Roald Dahl's Matilda in the third grade (great read by the way). I am actually so into it, I picture my face as the main heroine having to deal with real life blood suckers. Is there really anything wrong with wanting to get bit by a vampire? I questioned Elizabeth when she said no...and now I am fully in favor.

There is certainly plenty of blood on this island to sustain even the newest local...