I am finding to my surprise that I enjoy life in this small town. It’s true there’s not much to do here as far as cultural events and shopping, but the food is good, the population diverse, the people almost embarrassingly nice, and everything feels peaceful.
Then of course there’s the landscape. There’s a sizable hill just up the street from our apartment, though rain and winds have kept us from exploring it much. A couple of weekends ago, our friend Angela came to stay with us for a few days, and since weather allowed, we went up to the hill just before sunset.
The hill is an almost cartoonishly pretty sight. We admire it every time we see it.
All the rolling grassland around here is ranch property. In one place we were startled to find a cow skull. “I wonder where the rest of it is,” we said, and Angela joked, “Maybe we’re standing on it.” Then we saw a few more whitened bones lying in the grass near a cow-sized mound.
As the sun neared the horizon, everything took on tints of gold, peach, and pink.
“Good night, sun!” we told it, and headed home. The gold was out of the landscape now and everything had that clear grey cast of just after sunset (or just before sunrise).
We trotted back to our street before it got chilly enough to make us shiver, and ended our evening with dinner and the hot tub.
The next day was Saturday, and we spent it checking out the attractions of both small town and Big Island: the annual Waimea Cherry Blossom Festival, followed by snorkeling/diving with manta rays. That’ll be my next post.