Graditude and Latitude

It is quiet this morning; our friends and carpenters, Steve and Rob have finished our new deck, and we are enjoying a cuppa Haysmer Mud (coffee so thick and rich it has been classified as its own food group.)

Yesterday, while answering an email from a new artist and friend in Fiji, I noticed the first Lehua blossom on the Ohia trees just outside the window of the office area in our open house floor plan.  I was caught by surprise when my eyes teared up; what?!  Look-see-inside:  I realize it marks the anniversary of our first year.

And, overnight a second blossom has appeared and I am aware of new rhythms here on this new land.  On the summer solstice, I awake to find the morning sunlight streaming from the southeast counterpane across my bed, blessed warmth on my face. I woke early this morning to see the sun peak up, nearly half a year later, on the northeast side of the grandmother Ohia.  The light comes now at a different slant, crisscrossing it's earlier path to form an invisible "X" across the land and our hale.

There are new rhythms here (nu riddims) that only time will reveal, perhaps more subtle than higher latitudes, but waiting to be discovered by open hearts and open eyes. There is only gratitude - Ho'omaika'i.