A drupe is a fruit with a single stone or pit at its center. The fruits of mango trees are drupes, such as these two dripping with water after a hard rain.
Posted in response to Becky’s January Squares challenge theme of ‘Up.’ See more responses here.
I heard an uproar from the myna birds in the yard and looked up to see this cat bounding up a tree trunk. It disappeared into the leaves and, shortly after, the mynas flew off in a huff. I took this photo when the cat was on its way down, with nothing to show for its efforts.
Posted in response to Becky’s January Squares challenge theme of ‘Up.’ See more responses here.
A pod of spinner dolphins stopped by my local snorkeling spot. (Link, link)
Lāhainā Noon, when shadows disappear in Hawaii. (Link)
Shoals of Hawaiian silversides were abundant in the summer. (Link)
With no tourists here, Anaeho’omalu Bay was a sea of tranquility. (Link)
Some clumpy nudibranchs spent a few weeks in a local bay. (Link)
The year ended with a bang when Kilauea Volcano erupted again. (Link)
This week’s Sunday Stills challenge theme is ‘Your 2020 Retrospective.’ See more responses here. Also posted in response to Becky’s January Squares challenge theme of ‘Up.’ See more responses here.
In this retrospective I’ve focused on events and photos that were uplifting for me during the difficult year that was. Most of these photos haven’t run before, but were taken at the same time as those in posts that ran in 2020. Links to the original posts are at the end of the captions.
One thing I can rely on when I’m snorkeling is that when I’m looking down into the water there’s a very good chance something will be looking up at me. Most creatures in the water are constantly scanning for predators, or prey.
In this case, this whitemouth moray eel was in a typical position, wedged into a crack, and keeping a watchful eye on my movements.
Posted in response to Becky’s January Squares challenge theme of ‘Up.’ See more responses here.
As the sun sets on this strange, unhappy year, here’s a photo of a more tranquil sunset. The long, low island on the left is Kahoʻolawe, with Lānaʻi visible just to the right of it. The southern coast of Maui is on the right.
I saw this cow with her new calf on my way to my daily walk. Newborn calves tend to have a similar look about them. They’re very clean and bright and they have no idea what’s going on. They get on their feet pretty quickly, but there’s a shaky period until they figure out what legs are and how they work. They don’t stray far from their mothers, particularly when there’s a strange two-legged creature in the vicinity. And they can’t go long before they collapse and need to rest.
Mind you, compared to how I was as a child, they’re positively turbo-charged in their development.
The coastal regions of Hawaii are dotted with tsunami warning signs. Basically, any place within reach of a tsunami gets a sign.
I came across this sign while hiking the Puna Coast Trail in Hawaii Volcanoes National Park. It stood out as a dot of color in a field of lava and scrubby grasses. What I liked about the sign was its sage advice ‘In case of earthquake, immediately go to high ground or inland.’ At this spot, the high ground is inland, so that kills two birds with one stone.
On the other hand, getting to that high ground inland involves scrambling over a mile or more of rough lava. Also, if the earthquake was big enough, it might just mean that you could encounter lava from a new eruption heading down to the coast to meet you. The sign doesn’t offer any advice on what to do then!
For more information about Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, go to nps.gov/havo/.