I found myself wrapping the southern part of the island – it almost felt like a dance, driving during the golden part of the day and curving the south and eventually to the west, mesmerized by the color of the velvet sea laid out before me. The whipping wind created whitecaps that glistened in the late day sun.
The town I passed, Naha’alu brought great intrigue, lost in time and quite removed. A dilapitated art deco theater wrought with scaffolding, a church nearly engulfted by green rolling hills behind it and an old gas station with a sign that read southernmost town in the US. Simple and sparse, not without it’s characters but slow and gentle in it’s pace. It drew me in and yet I needed to continue on since the journey to the last leg of my trip was imminent.
The sky darkened and the pink dusky hue vanished somewhere right around Captain Cook, and made me realize the last swim I wanted to take along this side of the island wouldn’t happen. Disappointed but also aware that I was immersed in the salty crystal clear sea for days just recently, I arrived to sleep one last night in the sultry air before heading back to the mainland. I wanted to take it all in, the final night walk under a bright 3/4 full moon.
I didn’t allow myself to take anything for granted in these last hours, days. I know that this climate and pace and open air life brings me a lot of contentment. And yet I feel the tug to go back home to Marin, to my routine, to my pup, my in-person work, re-connect with friends and drop back in with M and delight in the spring blooms….