The allure of Hawaii is escape. I could write a thousand words about that, but nothing explains it better than this:
The beach is Makalawena, on the Big Island’s Kona Coast, whose name means “mischievous winds.” It’s a 12-minute drive along a deeply rutted gravel road through Kekaha Kai State Park from the Queen Ka’ahumanu Highway to the nearest parking spot, followed by a 30-minute hike along a lava and sand path in order to get there. Towards the very end, there are rolling dunes blanketed by pōhuehue, better known as beach morning glory in the rest of the United States. But in my particular fantasy of escape there is no translation for them, no spot other than this—only a single well-marked path that gets easier to tread with every step, with beckoning waters at its end that are capable of washing everything away.
If the road becomes impossible to navigate by foot, you can always take to the water.
Back on land, in North Kohala, we’re marking where walkways will go and choosing pavers for inside the outdoor showers.
Some mountains are surmountable. (Eventually, this will become our bedroom view.)
Sometimes, the pasture before you beckons you to pause for a nap.
But the important thing is always to remember to look up.