
My husband and I went exploring this weekend. Bare feet in the dirt, it’s raining but the windows are down, exploring. Our little daughter was fast asleep in the back seat of our MINI after a long day out and about at the Honolulu Zoo. She’d worn herself out “ooo-ing” and “ah-ing” at the monkeys, signing “turtle” repeatedly (she knows baby sign language) in happy delight, and trying her hardest to hop the fence into flamingo territory. On our walk back to the car, we met Yurri Farrant, a medium format film photographer, who was displaying his landscapes on the roadside in Waikiki. He was good, really good. So good that with one snap of the shutter, he managed to showcase Waimea Bay in all its glory, going off on a big day. Inspired by his imagery, we decided to take the long way home. We stopped at the Makai research pier and then found ourselves in Waimanalo chasing the dusky golden light that lit the Koolaus. I told Ivan, ‘We should get as close as possible to that gorgeous light,” not to mention the never ending undulations of rock, varying from light to dark, dark to light. Needless to say, the last hour of daylight on Saturday was magical. I had two of my favorite people in the whole world with me, chasing down this golden light, taking this road, and that turn, without a care in the world. It reminded me of one of my favorite travel memories, when I was 18 in Italy. My girlfriends and I had very little time to reach the Leaning Tower of Pisa before dark. We got off the train and ran through the streets with our heavy backpacks, asking for directions, half understanding the Italian answers, and relying more on gestures for directions. We made it just in time, breathless, and happy. Enough time to snap one one of my favorite photographs that I still own. What’s more, we met some cute, charming Italian boys who took us out to dinner at this yummy whole in the wall. That was fun too, really fun. As the saying goes, “Not all who wander are lost.”
-Crystal
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