Beltane and the Island Moon
Thursday gratefuls: Island time. Easing into it. Emily and Mobile Critter Care. The tropical Sun. The Ocean. Fish in it. That Heron waiting for the Fish. Crabs scuttling in the Sand. Ships going out to Sea. Sea level O2 sats. That Murdoch. A nice picture from Emily of Kep sunning on the deck.
Sparks of Joy and Awe: Ocean vastness. The diversity of Life on the Islands.
Talked with Mary and Seoah yesterday. We turned to family, to Kate. I cried. The first time in a bit. Kindness and recalling her as she was to me, to others. Swept over me. Like a wave as others have noted. Lacrimae. Sacred tears that purify the heart, the soul.
Working on my routine, getting back into three days of resistance, at least two of hard cardio. Recapitulating previous visits. I over do. Today I walked two hours, made it to the ocean. Oddly, a bit hard to find here on base. Well, really, far away from Ozinuka Village. I kept going just a bit further, hoping to find it. Then a bit further. Then I’d gone so far that I was damn well going to see the Ocean. Got there at old Fort Kamehameha, an early Army installation, miles from Joe and Seoah’s house.
Sat at a decrepit picnic table. The horizon line, where the Earth curves away, had two ships slowly moving from north to south. Another, bright orange below decks, a tannish yellow above, motored sedately out of the estuary. It had a large crane, a doppler radar, and some other devices. Might have been huge winches.
A Brazilian Cardinal hopped in the sand hunting for seeds and nuts. A small crab dug itself into a sandy hide. Beyond the shoreline schools of small fish roiled the water. A Great Blue Heron waited, watching the fish ripple the water from below. I imagined him wondering why the fish were being so easy to catch.
I had gone out fast, hitting 130 beats per minute on my heart rate, maintaining that for a good while. Wore myself out. Used the picnic table to stretch my complaining legs, remembering that I had the same distance now to go back and I’d used up my energy. Sigh. A lesson I learn again and again.
A third of the way back the Star Spangled Banner came over the base sound system. 8 am. Cars stop. Pedestrians like me turn to face the sound, remove our hats (covers), and wait out this peculiar piece of music. Same procedure at night only the music is Retreat on a trumpet and much shorter. I find it interesting to be here, a place dedicated to one task, the defense of the nation. The music, the colors, the street names, the workers clothed in camo. Joe, too.
The coherence and the congruence of a single purpose is soothing. There’s not the jarring paradoxes of retail settings or changing urban neighborhoods. Hickam is a gated community, quiet and calm. Peaceful. Ironic, eh? There is, of course, the divide between officers and enlisted, yet even that serves the whole. It’s known, intentional. Understood if not always appreciated.
My sister Mary is still in quarantine. Till Sunday. That means we’ve not done much outside the base. Fine with me. Sleeping, exercising, family immersion therapy. All good. Needed.
Major dream last night. Will elaborate later. Aloha.