On one of my walks, I noticed this stuffed toy lying on a dirt road. So I dusted it off, set it off to the side, and took this photo. I was happy to see that the toy still looked cheerful despite its ordeal.
The next time I walked that route, the toy was gone, so hopefully someone had retrieved it.
Yesterday I posted here about revisiting Pohoiki, also known as Isaac Hale Beach Park. Today, in response to this week’s Sunday Stills challenge on the theme of ‘Fire,’ (more responses here) I’m posting a couple more photos from that visit. Being perverse, I’ve chosen photos with no fire in them.
The top photo shows where the flow from the 2018 Kilauea eruption came to a halt, in the park’s picnic area. It has swallowed up one of the picnic tables, as well as some surrounding trees. What I find interesting about this is that neither the table, nor the trees, caught fire. I think this is because, by this time, the supply of lava had already stopped reaching the extremities of the flow and, consequently, those areas had already cooled considerably to below the temperature needed to cause combustion.
The bottom photo has a simpler, fire-related appeal. It could easily be captioned, ‘the barbecue pit meets the mother of all barbecues.’
It’s been a while since I was last at Pohoiki, also known as Isaac Hale Beach Park. One reason for this is that it’s about as far away from where I live as is possible on the island. But back in July 2016, I went down there at an ungodly hour to board a boat and go see lava flowing into the ocean. I wrote about that trip here and here. At the park were restrooms, picnic tables, and a boat launch ramp protected by a small breakwater.
Last year, Pohoiki was in the news because it was where the flow from the 2018 Kilauea eruption finally ground to a halt, about 100 yards short of the boat ramp. A few days ago, I decided to revisit the park and see the changes that had taken place.
Driving into the park, the cooled lava flow could be seen, stretching down the side of the grassy picnic area (bottom photo). But what I really wanted to see was the boat ramp and the black sand beach at the bottom of the park. They did not disappoint.
The boat ramp, previously used to launch quite large boats, including the lava tour catamaran of 2016, now leads to a small lagoon (top photo). (Note the signs on the left of the photo.) This lagoon is perfect for swimming or sailing model boats, but as a boat launch ramp it has one big drawback. There’s now a long, deep, curve of black sand separating the ramp from the ocean (photo below). This beach began forming during the eruption, but I was surprised by how substantial it was. It’s rocky in places and the sand is quite coarse, but it is unquestionably a beach and it looks like it’s here to stay.
An indication of the beach’s substance can be seen in the second photo. The red triangle on a pole marked the end of the breakwater. Now it’s deep in sand. The breakwater is still there, but almost entirely buried.
The beach was formed by lava pouring into the ocean. Some of it solidified into large chunks, but a lot was quickly broken into smaller pieces and fine sand. (In the postings about my 2016 trip, one of the photos shows a black sand beach forming at the base of the flow.) A good deal of this sand was carried a short way down the coast to form this new beach.
I don’t have a good photo of the park before these changes, but the local newspaper has an aerial view here that shows the features I’ve mentioned. In that photo, the boat ramp, breakwater, and rocky shore can be seen at the bottom. Top left is the restrooms building that is also top left in the bottom photo here. The paths and picnic tables can also be seen.
I’d expect that on my next visit, all these new features that I’ve mentioned will still be there, but there is one caveat. If there’s a new eruption in this area, then everything could change. It’s one of the facts of life of living near an active volcano.
Posted in response to this week’s Friendly Friday challenge on the theme of ‘Revisited.’ See more responses here. Tomorrow, I’ll post a few more photos in response to the Sunday Stills photo challenge.
Pacific trumpetfish have the ability to change their coloration according to their surroundings. In this case, the trumpetfish has turned yellow to blend in with a shoal of yellow tang, one of the most common fish on the reef.
So why bother with this subterfuge? Trumpetfish are predators, feeding mostly on small fish and some crustaceans. Appearing to be one of the crowd allows it to sneak up on unsuspecting prey. And while the very different shape of the trumpetfish might make it seem like it’s prey would be sure to spot it, from the front, which is where the prey is going to be, trumpetfish are very hard to spot.
This photo makes it look like someone has placed this delicate shade on a beach. In fact, I found it in 10 feet of water in an area that is often buffeted by large swells, making it’s perfect appearance all the more unlikely. How or why the shade got there is unknown, but for me, that adds to the mystery of the scene.
I used to live in the same town as Jim Whittaker, the first American to reach the summit of Mount Everest. He duly published an autobiography titled, ‘A Life on the Edge.’ As someone who lives close to the flat center surrounded by fluffy pillows, I use that phrase as a punchline for many things.
“I think I might have another cookie.” “Ooo, life on the edge.”
“I bought new shorts that are a slightly different tan shade than my previous pair.” “Life on the edge.”
You get the idea, which has nothing to do with anything really except that, on this day, the cattle in these photos really were living life on the edge.
Agave attenuata is native to Mexico, but is commonly seen in Hawaii. It’s also known as lion’s tail agave, swan’s neck agave, or fox tail agave. These names stem from its long flower stalk which rises from the center of the leaves and arches over. Most agaves bloom and die, but agave attenuata blooms annually without dying. Also, unlike many other agaves, agave attenuata leaves don’t have leaves with sharp points or spiky edges.
The progression of the flowering process can be seen on one agave attenuata plant. In the second photo, starting at the base of the flowering stalk, there is a bare section where the flowering process has finished. Above that is a brownish section where small brown pods have been set. Some of these, that remain attached to the stem, will turn into green fruits. Near the end is the portion of the stalk that is currently flowering and at the end are buds that have yet to flower.
I was drawn to these plants, not just because of their striking flower stalks, but because in the mornings, bees were all over the plant. The top photo shows a bee clambering through a tangle of stamens and pistils. In the third photo, there were lots of bees working along the flowering portion of the inflorescence. Below, sometimes it’s hard work getting to grips with the task in hand.
I have a fondness for the patterns made by the machinery of modern civilization. These are power lines against a blue Hawaiian sky.
Graham's Island 