Keeping my head above water

Beloved old favorite, the maidenhair fern

I am quite stunned by what has happened to a place that I always thought of as Paradise: Hawaii. Although I've never been, I know several bloggers who live and make their homes there, and also some friends from the islands who have family there too. It brings me to tears every time I turn on the news and learn about the incredible loss of life in Lahaina. If more than ninety people have died, then the number of nonhuman creatures that have perished must be enormous, too. I looked at pictures of the beautiful 150-year-old banyan tree that is damaged but hopefully will survive, while just about every single house in the town of Lahaina is simply gone.

That tree is just amazing, even now. From an article in the Insider: 

To understand why the banyan is so special to residents, it's important to grasp the scope of the tree. Its 16 trunks stretch over almost an acre. Green leaves and branches reach over 60 feet in the air, offering dappled shade for the park below.

Well, the park is gone, the building that sat in front of it (the old courthouse) is now nothing but a shell. Everywhere you look, only burned-out cars and flattened homes are all you see. For a town that has 12,000 residents (or did), it is heartbreaking to contemplate. How can they rebuild and, if so, how long will it take? I really hope I live long enough to see it rise back up, like a phoenix. And most of all, I hope that some part of the tree will be saved, even if much of it dies, and that it, too, will rise up to give hope to all who mourn their losses.

 The banyan tree is a rather unique tree. Did you know it is a fig tree? I found this information about it:

A banyan, frequently written “banian,” is a type of fig that grows auxiliary trunks from accidental prop roots, enabling the tree to grow endlessly. It sets banyans apart from other trees with a strangling habit that emerges from their seed in a crack. The term “banyan” is frequently used to refer exclusively to Ficus benghalensis, also known as the “Indian banyan,” which is the national tree of India. However, it has also been used systematically to refer to the subgenus Urostigma (housing.com).

The Banyan represents growth, strength, and self-awareness through reflection. meditation, and a quieting of one's mind. It is said that Buddha found enlightenment after sitting under the Banyan tree for seven days. In Hinduism, the leaf of the Banyan tree is said to be the resting place for the god Krishna. So it's a very sacred tree to many people. And now it is a symbol for the people living in Maui for resilience in the face of tragedy. I really hope this symbol of hope survives.

We here in the Pacific Northwest are just getting ready to face several days of hot weather. We have been spared the awful heat that most of the country, indeed most of the Northern Hemisphere, has endured during the past months. Summer isn't fun when you cannot even go for a walk without suffering. But then again, I never found summer to be easy, since I wilt when the temperature gets above 80°F. Yesterday I walked from the coffee shop with my new pal Steve, and we went east on a trail that was mostly new to me. We covered five-and-a-half miles in sunny conditions, but it was still cool. We ended up back at the Farmers' Market, and I had another Shave Ice, a staple of Hawaiian culture. Steve will be going there in a couple of weeks to celebrate his mother's ninetieth birthday. She lives on the eastern side of Maui and has not been affected by the fires.

The last few weeks I have struggled to find something positive to write about on this Sunday post. Strangely, it's been fourteen years that I've been writing, and I've not yet run out of topics, but lately it's been harder to find uplifting things, and I don't think it's just me. The entire world seems on the brink of some major catastrophe, and everywhere I look there are grumpy or anxious faces, not many spontaneous smiles. Nope, this is a particularly tough time we're going through, I think. It certainly helps to stay away from the news, but I want to know what's happening and not pretend everything is fine. I hope this period passes without anything serious happening in my neck of the woods, although that seems selfish. Perhaps the feeling I have is appropriate, and unbridled happiness is not. I am indeed struggling.

When I read my virtual family's posts, it seems I am not alone in this, because several of you have told me of your own difficulties, and I empathize. But I especially feel good when I go for a "walk" through the lovely surroundings that many of you have, and I commiserate when you talk about coping with the heat. We are all in this together, and frankly, it helps to know I am not alone when going through unsettled times. I picture a time in the near future when I will be filled with joy and happiness, just for being alive and still moderately healthy. That means I won't go into my own bodily ills, since the ones I have are pretty mild, compared to what others are going through.

Another Rose Garden beauty

Today I will go for a walk in the neighborhood, and I'll stop to smell the roses once again, because they always bring a smile to my face. I'm usually alone in the Rose Garden, but I welcome all others who decide it's a good idea to stop and smell them, take in their beauty, and share the loveliness. It's a much better thing to do than to sit around and mope. 

Well, dear friends, I fear I haven't done a very good job this morning, but it is what it is. I will enjoy going to breakfast with my friend John, come home and visit with my dear partner (who still sleeps next to me at the moment), and finding the peace that eludes me at the moment but still exists. Some words of wisdom from one who knew that well.

Never bend your head. Always hold it high. Look the world straight in the eye. —Helen Keller

And with that, I will sign off on this sunny and warm Sunday, giving you a virtual hug, and a pat on the back. Until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things.