intermission (a Wish - part 3)

ow, ow, ow, ow.

I appear to have dry-roasted myself to an impressively glowing crisp. And while thematically, this ought to lead to a post about volcanoes, alas, it doesn't lead to much more than me keeping my arms straight (did you know that bending the elbow, or raising the arm pull on the skin at elbow and shoulder, respectively? I do).

But I can leave you with an unusual fact, and a photo:

Hawaiian Fun Fact:
While sunburnt skin is sensitive to heat from sources such as warm water, bedding, etc, it will also invite you to wince at the appearance of each goose bump, should you decide to supply yourself with a/c.

ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.

But enough whinging, let's have a pic, eh? I've mentioned the rather lovely roadside graffiti, and we were idly admiring it as we drove north, through the lava fields. There was not, after all, much else to admire - barring, perhaps, the wonderful blueness of the sky, which I was having a hard time enjoying, being already rather crispy.


By contrast to what seemed a fairly ruthlessly sunny sky, the Hawaiian graffiti was worth a gentle smile


and a rapid set of blinks.


Aloha, indeed. We pulled over, and I took my crispy self across the highway (two whole lanes, eep) and aimed the camera. The graffito had chosen a really nice, distant site so as to make for a good view from the road, and a nice little hike over crusty pahoehoe lava, should we want to edit it.

But the broken crusts of pahoehoe, and the impressively deep blackness between the lava's edges are enough to discourage any editor. Still, if I could, I'd at least add something: mahalo, Make A Wish!

The crackling of my various bits aside, I'm sitting on a shaded lounge chair, a quietly humming Toddles next to me, and looking at this:


Oh, my. The saffron finches are chattering, something is crooning in the palm tree near us, and on the horizon, the volcanoes and cinder cones are beautiful in distant shades of deepening blue.

And, lest I become too um, mellow, a small feathered being is informing me, in no uncertain terms, that I am far too close to his nest. Which might just be my cue to pry myself up and go make dinner.

Yep. Any minute now.

*mahalo = thank you.