
Palm trees and tropical foliage cast a reflection on Lily Lake at Hawaii Tropical Botanical Garden.
For more information about Hawaii Tropical Botanical Garden, go to htbg.com.

Palm trees and tropical foliage cast a reflection on Lily Lake at Hawaii Tropical Botanical Garden.
For more information about Hawaii Tropical Botanical Garden, go to htbg.com.

In May of 1969, a series of earthquakes opened a large fissure alongside Chain of Craters Road in Hawaii Volcanoes National Park. This was the beginning of what is known as the Mauna Ulu eruption. For five years, lava poured forth in a series of eruptions. Chain of Craters Road, completed only a few years earlier, was buried for several miles. Landmarks along the road were destroyed or irrevocably altered. A swathe of forest disappeared in flame.
When the eruptions finally ceased, life soon began to reappear on the barren lava landscape. In this photo, vegetation has reclaimed a section of the original 1969 fissure. Roots are anchored in cool, moist cracks in the lava. The tree on the left is particularly striking. Having started out in a crack on a vertical face, it has reached up to the light and is going strong. I like to think it shows how resilient nature can be.
For more information about Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, go to nps.gov/havo/. For more information about Kilauea Volcano and it’s eruptions, go to hvo.wr.usgs.gov/kilauea/history/main.html.

I must have driven by this tree a hundred times, but one day, I was on foot and finally noticed the huge fruits of the jackfruit tree. Jackfruits are relatives of breadfruit and their fruit can grow as large as 3 feet in length and weigh up to 40 pounds. These weren’t that big, but still striking, once I finally noticed them.
Hiking on the west side of the Big Island can be a hot and arid experience. The landscape is often barren lava or scrubby growth. If it’s scrubby growth, chances are that kiawe trees (Prosopis pallida) are prominent and if they are, it’s wise to tread carefully. That’s because kiawe trees produce long, tough thorns.
Hiking in slippahs (flip flops) is asking for trouble. A kiawe thorn will go through them like a knife through wet tissue. I’ve felt the jab of these thorns through my Tevas, which have robust soles of decent thickness. The first time I wore my new trail shoes, toward the end of the hike, crossing a kiawe-bordered beach, I felt a familiar prick in my foot. A thorn had buried itself in the ¾-inch thick sole and penetrated far enough to make itself felt. One of my routine tasks with my trail shoes, and the Tevas, is to examine the soles and extract any thorns with a pair of pliers. When a hike is over, it doesn’t mean the danger is past. Drive over one of these thorns and it can and does cause punctures.
But if all this makes it seem as if kiawes are reviled, that’s not the case. It’s widely used in smoking meats. The smell of burning kiawe is commonplace.
Kiawe isn’t a native tree; it originated in Peru. In fact, all Hawaii’s kiawes can trace their roots, as it were, back to a single seed planted by a priest in Honolulu in 1828.

The Hamakua coast of the Big Island is the first landfall of the northeast trade winds and, consequently, gets a good deal of rainfall. Combined with warm tropical temperatures and good soil, the area is a prime growing area.
One of the crops is eucalyptus trees. The trees grow fast and straight. When they’re harvested they’re trucked to Kawaihae, the port on the west side of the island, to this log yard. They’re stored there until there are enough logs to ship to Asia, which seems to be about every couple of months at present.
I happened to be driving by late one afternoon and was struck by the light on the log ends. As can be seen from the hillside in the background, Kawaihae is one of the driest spots on the island, averaging around 10 inches of rainfall a year.