…or how we meet all our neighbors. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

I’m lucky to live on Kauai, the most beautiful of all the Hawaiian Islands. I’m especially lucky to live in ‘old Hawaii’. In a most fortunate little valley that can’t seem to decide if it lives in Lawaii or Kalaheo, surrounded by open space and cows and goats and horses and chickens-crowing roosters and clucking hens and fuzzy chicks- and lots of feral pigs who roam at night, and cats and dogs and lots and lots and lots of two-legged critters who jog, ride bikes-motor and otherwise-hike, stroll, meander, drive cars and trucks and buses and rumbling engines up and down it’s steeply winding two lane wandering way.

Right in front of my house, on my side of the meander, is a glorious red Turk’s head Hibiscus. Considered a pest and a weed, it’s tall and willowy and if you pluck a blossom and pull off the green stem you can suck on its sweetness as you used to suck on  honeysuckle when you were a kid who lived in the country.

This Turk’s always in trouble. Some of the two-legged critters who drive exhaust spewing stinkers  up and down the road object to it light-hearted frothy touch slapping the sides of their grumblers as they race and roar and tumble through paradise as if it were  a place to escape instead if a place to escape to. They never pause to smell the flowers. Or see the breathless beauty. I think it’s the most glorious small stretch of country road on the island.

At the top of my stretch is a hairpin turn. On the left as you’re coming down is a pasture where curious cattle-a Black Angus calf, a tender brown bull, and a couple of White Face bulls browse and graze and gaze through the fence with sleepy bovine eyes. Across the street, my side, is a natural wonderland.  Tall African Tulips with huge orange blossoms that carpet the road-another weed according to some-a tall red double hibiscus, guavas, weedelia. huge bat-winged Monstera and yellow Kolomana nestle and nourish and nudge each other.

This is the corner where I often take Ari-my beloved red horse- out to graze by the side of the road.  In an election year he’s a circumambulating bipedal campaigner with a great heart. He nods at the traffic and switches his tail. I wave and smile. Most of the good guys slow down and smile back.

An occasional bad guy calls the cops. “Officer, there’s a goddamn horse slowing down traffic on Waha Road.”

The really bad guys try to upset him. Us. Rev their engines. Honk their horns. Squeal their breaks.

Ari shrugs.

i flip them the bird.

Really bad guys call the county who come out with an army of trucks and tractors and hard-working men to butcher the tall green  buffalo grass Ari likes to much on. Fortunately there are few of those but they sure do make a mess.

…and that’s how we meet our neighbors.


3 Responses

  1. She’s back! Yeah, I was wondering how you met your neighbors, now I know! ;D)


  2. For part two you can tell eveyone how you meet people at LaBamba restaurant!


  3. AH it is about Ari he gave those b—– what for good for Ari. Glad you are back. simply bb


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