Waimanu is one of the few Hawaiian monk seals that live permanently around the Big Island. She has given birth to three pups, each time in the vicinity of Keokea Park in North Kohala. All three pups died, one from swallowing a fish hook when a few months old, the other two while still with their mother on the beach.
We’ll see if she returns to the park again this year for another go.
Mālama ‘Āina means to care for the land, an important concept in Hawaiian life, an important concept for everyone. This sign was near Kiholo campground.
Ho’okena is a small community about 20 miles south of Kailua Kona. It’s a popular spot for its beach park, which features a beautiful sandy beach in a fairly sheltered bay. It was less popular toward the end of 2015 when it was one of the hotspots for the dengue fever outbreak of that winter.
Photographing birds is always a challenge for me, especially when they’re in flight. Hawaiian noddies are tricky because they tend to skim the water as they fly along the coast. When I do see them, they’re usually as close as they’re going to get and, by the time I have my camera organized, the best I can hope for is a blurry photo of some tail feathers.
What was unusual on this day was that, while I saw the noddy in about the same relative position as I had other times, it was higher up, dipping below the cliff and then climbing up again. As it was heading into the wind, it was making slow progress and I thought I had a chance. But each time I was about to get the bird in shot and in focus, it would slide away again. However, each time it reappeared, it got closer to where I was.
Where I was standing, the cliff dipped toward me, and when the bird swooped in to that recess (still evading my camera) I felt sure I would be able to capture it when it flew out again. I was ready, I was focused, but no bird. I was pretty sure it hadn’t sneaked by, out of sight. Then I realized that the chances were I’d stumbled on the bird’s roost. I couldn’t see the cliff face so I waited and a few minutes later two noddies flew out, circled around, and returned to the cliff.
Eventually, four birds came out, and while they looked a similar size, I suspect two of them were chicks that were about ready for independent life. It was still a challenge getting the birds in the frame, and I didn’t help myself by switching my focus from one bird to thinking I could get all four in shot, and back again.
In the end, I was happy to have a few decent photos and more happy to have had the time just watching them circling and swooping, dipping and diving, before swinging back to their roost.
Since this week’s WordPress photo challenge is ‘collage,’ I thought I’d see just how much I’ve forgotten about Photoshop Elements, or how much I never knew. The answer is a lot, on both counts. Still I had fun figuring a few things out and I like this collage of turtle photos, taken the last time I was at Kiholo.
Mauna Kea is a mecca for astronomers because it boasts clear skies more than 300 days a year. That doesn’t mean Mauna Kea doesn’t get rain, just that it falls more on the lower slopes.
This photo shows the access road, a little way below the summit, socked in with clouds and steady rain. It was a little better at the top, but still very cloudy and not a day for seeing stars.
Tropical plants tend to grow vigorously, which means they’re constantly bumping into, and mingling, with their neighbors in a botanical collage. The prime components here are Alocasia micholitziana and Calathea bella with a few others thrown in for good measure.
Just above the tide line at Kiholo is this collage of items. Floats, nets, ropes, bits of wood and foam, a plastic jerrycan form a collection that no doubt grows and changes with each passing tide.
Graham's Island 