Mahalo to the Mountains

When I read this thoughtful post by Kumu Paul Neves, I was so touched that I asked him if I could share it here. He graciously said that I might. Mahalo no, Kumu Neves, for your heartfelt manaʻo!

Na Kumu Hula Paul Kevin Kealiïkea o Mano Neves

Mahalo Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa for always protecting us. We always seem to pump up the great impending disaster and we forget about the new rain that cleans our streams and refreshes our forests, flows anew to the sea and fills out water tanks. It washes the sorrows of our aina away and gives us so much to look forward to.

And yet does our Chamber of Commerce or business community ever acknowledge that if those mountains were 1,000ft instead of 14,000ft our unique opportunity to do business here on Moku o Keawe let alone live here, probably wouldn’t exist?

I have visited other parts of the world where such acknowledgement and respect are given, celebrated and their mountains or streams or oceans or creatures are given every protection.and respect.

Mauna Kea, Mauna Loa,, Hualalai, Kohala, Haleakala, Ka’ala and Wai’ale’ale are natural resources they do not exist because of human activity. But because of Akua!

Hawai’i needs to take care of these unique creations of nature. They provide a unique place for us to exist on their shoulders..

All the mauna are sacred and they prove their spiritual and unique presence each and every day and especially when a storm heads our way.

Mahalo Ke Akua for our mauna and the fresh rain and fresh start it brings!

Aloha Hawai’i,
Kumu Hula Paul Kevin Kealiïkea o Mano Neves

Makani Pāhili – Hurricane

ʻO pano ia, ʻo panopano ʻo Kāne i ka pō panopano i hānau.

The Wall of Weather
The wall of cloud – precursor to Hurricane Madeline. Shortly after dawn, August 30, 2016.

We have prepared as best we might, and Hilo now goes on about its business, cooking dinner, brushing dogs, checking out facebook, continuing the minutiae of daily life.

Meanwhile, we have watched a mass of cloud inexorably roll in from the ka hikina, the east. When I awoke this morning it was a huge grey wall behind the horizon line.

Evening glow on Maunakea. August 30, 2016.

By nightfall it blotted out the east and roofed the lower parts of Hilo while Maunakea stood clear, silhouetted by the last light of dusk.



Hiki mai ka Panopano
Hiki mai ka Panopano. The thick cloud comes.

Whatever the causes, the climate has changed. It will change even more. We must learn to live in it.

It is dark now, and the rain is starting. Blessings and aloha, and we will see you on the other side of the storm!