Being Right Here.

Behind the ancient Japanese cemetery, along the edge of the ocean cliffs, is a grove of lauhala trees.

Mexico lies 3,200 miles to the east, the nearest neighbor.

I find myself bowing as I enter into this coastal forest.

There's a no trespassing/kapu sign after the cemetery, at the boundary with this privately owned forest.

For me it says: "E komo mai." Welcome. Take off your shoes & enter.

This temple of trees.

A place for breathing.

Sitting on the curved trunk of a fallen tree.

Listening to the voices in the trade winds,

& the chants of the lauhala trees, as they dance hula in the sea breeze.

The mystical iwa bird (7' wingspan) glides above the canopy, drifting with the clouds.

The waves, in their excitement, are completing the journey from Mexico, disappearing into the boulders below.

And as for the other 9 billion humans... they are busy elsewhere... lost in their tiny worlds of make-believe.