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morning shift

Sunrise over Mauna Loa, the harbor comes alive. The sea wall is lined with early risers, poles in hand, lines cast, warm orange/yellow light reflecting off the water onto their faces. White-haired locals in plastic shades and rubber slippers smile, chat and laugh on their morning walk to sea, eyes on the water, paddles in hand. Incoming canoes pull ashore and their rowers gather on on the sand, arms raised shouting “Kai’opua!” in unison before dispersing. 

Kai’olpua - sea clouds (the billowing clouds along the horizon)

Sometimes I feel the ocean more when I’m on land — it’s movement, it’s immensity, our unspoken love affair. We meet with the quiet sense of something more to be revealed. I know that I am at her mercy, and I love her anyway. 


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