The path into the woods quickly turns from a common garden walkway to the entrance to what appeared to be a rainforest. The trees were thickly lush, many of them very old. The plants and ferns were primeval. There were bird sounds I had previously only heard in movies.

Everywhere were flowers of exquisite color and variety: reds and purples, yellows and oranges. There were orchids and bromeliads and hibiscus; patches of touch-me-nots, their seed pods bursting, thickets of ferns that appeared to be relics of the dinosaur age. There were trees sprouting roots from their trunks, trees with round fruit hanging from the tops or sides, elephant ear leaves big enough to hide under as though we were an especially ungainly species of frog. This was something that I had never sen before, wouldn[base ']t know where else in the United States to see. The closest place to this in my memory was the RainForest building at the Cleveland Zoo, once an indoor marvel, but now, in my estimation, a pale imitation of this tropical Eden.

We walked for the rest of the morning, then left and headed on the freeway toward Oahu's south shore. We stopped at Hanauma Bay - famous for snorkeling opportunites through its coral reefs, but closed to the public that day because of a jelly-fish infestation. We drove on, the road matching the curves of the shore line, stopping at regular scenic overlooks to see surfers at Sandy Beach or waves crashing into volcanic rock or simply staring out at the ocean, straining to see the whales that surely lurked under the surface.
8:40:42 AM    Comments?()