The Hawai’ian Night

11:00 PM.  Watched Jericho, the second TV program I’ve viewed in three weeks, not counting that Goldie Hawn movie that Kate and I watched together.

The Hawai’ian sunset, the Hawai’ian sunrise, the wonderful sun during the day.  Yeah, yeah, yeah all true.

I want to say a word for the Hawai’ian night.  Again.  Clear.  Black with brilliant lights, the lights of the heavens.  The Big Dipper that lit the way for the underground railroad.  It pointed then and points now to Polaris.  The North Star.  I feel an affection for Polaris much like I feel for Orion.  It has an identity and its identity and mine have grown together over the years.  Hokusai, probably the best Ukiyo-e artist belonged to a Buddhist sect that worshipped the north star.  I get it.

While sky watching, the ocean never stops.  Standing on old volcanic soil, listening to the waves and seeing the stars that helped the Polynesians navigate on their amazing voyage here. 

They also used ocean currents and cloud formations.   A book I read yesterday compared their voyage to one headed off on a journey to a distant planet.  What would you take with  you?  They brought 27 species of plants:  ti, taro, breadfruit and bananas among them.  They call them canoe plants.

Imagine being out there in the middle of the Pacific ocean, in an outrigger canoe.  At night.  Just imagine.