1/18/10

There are days between sunrise and sunset that are smooth and shapeless forms. NO conflicts or triumphs stand above the plane of events. There are no peaks or valleys.

The sunrise was soft and yellow. I stayed inside reading and writing all morning. I ate bananas from our backyards. My bike carried me to and through Naalehu like a swift and angular steed. The graveyard was an interesting sight. Citrus fruit and beer cans adorned the graves of many.

In town I reaped the waves of cell phone reception. I chose the harder of the two paths to home, the relentless steep ascent of six miles on the mountain road. In the afternoon I was ready to rest again.

The fields behind the cabins were still vast and unexplored this afternoon. I fought the still and soldierly elephant grass to reach the high side of the field., the one lined with trees and a stone wall. Countless thorny legumes were clinging to my clothes on the way back.

Kenny the bum was here again today. He is deep brown like tree bark, and just as wrinkled. He amazes me with his calm shuffling pace to life and blissful attitude. He is genuinely satisfied with sleeping in the back of his truck, just for the opportunity to see us. He is an honest man.

The new couple arrived tonight, ready for work early in the morning. They come from Wisconsin, and seem to bring a traditional continental perspective. And that is near the end, and we all retired early after hearing my outlandish boss drone our ears with childish lectures. Hans said the boss had him working on Christmas Day. "He's so fucking out of it that he had me picking fruit that day," he said, "He doesn't understand- the last thirty five years, the heaviest thing I've lifted on Christmas Day is my nuts."