Ahalanui Park pond (one of many Puna gems on the Big Island) is usually a serene place where fresh underground water, heated by volcanic activity, meets the salty waves of the ocean.  Over the course of two years I have seen many varieties of weather, cloud formation, wind and rain all in ambient colors.

With a dangerous surf advisory for the island because of Hurricane Jimena, last night at dusk I wanted to see what the water was like, so I slipped on my bathing suit, wrapped at towel around me and took my twelve minute ride down Mango Road.  Half way there I realized I did not have a flashlight -- so my swim would be brief.



Seeing there were only 3-4 cars in the log, I figured the water might be chilly, but I needed a good cool-off after working in the yard for three hours.  At the head of the path was a sign "Park closed until further notice."  Fortunately my rebel-self did not even pause; skirting the sign I could, however, see why.

Waves very similar to this!

The entire pond looked like a frothy full bowl as eight foot waves crashed up, over and into the pond one after another.  It looked NOTHING like the above peaceful image; and me with no camera (or flashlight.)  Although the churning water was way up past the steps, it was so aerated by the pounding surf, it was an amazing aquamarine color.  I dove in, delighted.  It was like swimming in a agitated washing machine; huge waves breaking over the embankment splashed into the pond, traveled all the way to the back wall and bounced back toward the entrance, and sea foam swirled in spiral patterned eddies. 
 
Jostled by the water, I swam back and forth, end to end, and as i paused to catch my breath, I saw another woman doing the same thing.  We were alone in this amazing experience, and her body language clearly expressed my own delight.  During our brief talk-story I discovered her name was Luz, and she laughed and said, "ha, the Lu's are in the pond."

It was getting dark fast, so we each returned to our swim and as the color of the water deepened, and I could no longer see the bottom, I once again reveled in the power of Divine Darkness and figured I had to make a simple piece of art that expressed my mermaid joy at swimming in the depths. 

Phil took the above photo of me last week. The drawing was done in '95 during a visit to Orr Hot Springs.  I superimposed my drawing over another photo I had, trying to illustrate what I saw as I swam -- millions of minuscule bubbles in shades of effervescent aqua, deepening to darkness, reminding me, as always, of the space between the stars -- and of another favorite -- Dark Matter.