The flight, first class or no, is long and cramping. Even if you face backwards, lie on your seat and stick your legs up the back of your seat for a good stretch- well it’s still tight. But we flew over the mountains and the Palouse and into Seattle, I waved briefly in Bonnie’s direction as we raced across to the next gate and walked right on board. And then we arrived at close to midnight our time, just as the sun was going down here. As usual I mixed up the time thing and I now realize you have all been up for hours.

And I was reminded that the first time I ever came here- after years of travel in the most beautiful places- I thought, "Oh! This is where God spends his Sundays." And everyday is Sunday. We slept well, listening to the sound of the ocean and waking to the sound of birds. Some bad do-be is already feeding them.Birds_2

I haven’t had time to explore yet- I’m going to shower and go take a look see. This is the first year this resort way down on the tip of Makena, is hosting the Xterra World Championship Triathlon- a coup for them and it would seem, thus far, a coup for us. Wailea was starting to feel just a tad too golf resort for me. This place- The Maui Prince- prides itself on peace and quiet and great snorkeling with sea turtles and the largest koi pond imaginable. They have one golf course as opposed to three. The view is spectacular; Molokini, where we love to dive and snorkel is visible from the our balcony. Here are a couple not great pictures; look for more soon.
And then, I got this gift from my dear friend Patti in this morning’s e-mail. She wrote:  "I thought of you both as I read this lovely poem about things made with heart and hands." How good can life possibly be? Neruda, in this poem, has us pretty well covered. And I say thank you, thank you.

Ode to My Socks, Pablo Neruda

Maru Mori brought me
a pair
of socks
which she knitted herself
with her sheep-herder’s hands,
two socks as soft
as rabbits.
I slipped my feet
into them
as though into
with threads of
and goatskin.
Violent socks,
my feet were
two fish made
of wool,
two long sharks
seablue, shot
by one golden thread,
two immense blackbirds,
two cannons,
my feet
were honored
in this way
They were
so handsome
for the first time
my feet seemed to me
like two decrepit
firemen, firemen
of that woven
of those glowing

I resisted
the sharp temptation
to save them somewhere
as schoolboys
keep fireflies,
as learned men
sacred texts,
I resisted
the mad impulse
to put them
in a golden
and each day give them
and pieces of pink melon.
Like explorers
in the jungle who hand
over the very rare
green deer
to the spit
and eat it
with remorse,
I stretched out
my feet
and pulled on
the magnificent
and then my shoes.

The moral
of my ode is this:
beauty is twice
and what is good is doubly
when it is a matter of two socks
made of wool in winter.
Aloha to you all.

7 responses to “Gifts

  1. Your pictures are lovely.
    The poem is lovely. I don’t know why it made me cry, but it did.
    Someday, I will see Hawaii for myself.
    Aloha, enjoy the ‘resting place’.

  2. Your pictures are lovely.
    The poem is lovely. I don’t know why it made me cry, but it did.
    Someday, I will see Hawaii for myself.
    Aloha, enjoy the ‘resting place’.

  3. Hi Vicki! I’m glad you are safely there and having fun. It looks really beautiful. I can’t wait to hear about all your adventures.

  4. Mahalo for the poem, Vicki. It is lovely; and no photo from Paradise can ever be bad! Aloha, enjoy your stay!

  5. The poem is lovely; thanks for sharing it.

    Flying into Seattle, you probably flew almost directly over our house, on the hill just north of the Space Needle. If you’re coming back the same way, see if you can spot the old water towers as you bank over the hill; we’re a block away. I’ll be waving… 😉

  6. Al: Glad you made it safe and sound. Sounds like you’ll be well-rested by the time you have to start the Triathlon. (I’m just assuming you will do it, make everyone know what a good wife you are to Mr. Star.)

    Betty and I played Makena golf course once. Japanese built it mostly to attract visitors from Japan. No American had enough money to buy the land.

  7. Oh lucky you!!! I love Maui! Will you drive to Hana? Go to the crater? I am so jealous. Please keep posting gorgeous pictures!! (I’m trying to get caught up after a few weeks of little time for blog reading…)

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