The kids these days say they need to "touch grass" which is a new fangled way of saying what ancient people knew - that there is something special, even magical, about getting into nature and experiencing the beauty of plants and animals and landscapes.
I'm deathly allergic to many plants, and especially grass, so touch grass doesn't resonate with me. But when I see an ocean, I can't wait to get my feet into it. I love swimming and snorkeling, too, and boating and cruising, but even if I am without a swimsuit, I am lured to the waters edge to get my feet in, at least. That's my version of touch grass.
Unfortunately there's not a lot of ocean in Texas, and zero near Fort Worth. So escaping to Hawaii is always a desire, despite the long flight and expense (and I tend to make the latter worse to ease the former vis-a-vis upgrading to first class for the trip).
I arrived last night on an island new to me - Kauai. It had been my goal to get here ever since I learned I could take a helicopter tour to the waterfalls in Jurassic Park, and I booked the trip while on my solo writing and research trip on Astoria, Oregon, as a way to keep the independent sovereign vibes going. Work has been incredibly busy and stressful on a more personal level - dealing with personnel issues and BS office politics,my least favorite hassles, and this trip couldn't come soon enough. Disconnecting and decompressing is often a struggle for me, and it is especially true today. The trip here was longer than it needed to be due to delays, and it honestly wore me out, although I did manage to read in entirety two books by Andrew Yang!
After stopping at Target near the airport and then making the trek to the hotel that took close to an hour, during which my energy hit a wall, I crashed hard in bed last night. This morning, I woke up with the threat of a migraine, and the Sunday brunch at the hotel restaurant sounded like exactly what I needed to recharge. I don't usually eat a big breakfast but since I hadn't eaten in several hours before bed last night, I was famished.
While getting ready, I caught a glimpse out my window of two Nene's waddling across my patio. I grabbed my phone and rushed to the door to take a few photos of these rare, endangered birds found only here in Hawaii. A tuxedo cat also graced my patio. Turns out, I needn't have hurried because the Nene's population has apparently made a strong comeback due to the protections put in place for them and they were all over the hotel property! As I ate breakfast on the lanai, several nenes were hanging out by the pool and a mama chicken and her little chicks were wandering around the lanai hunting for charity from the guests. 
A red-headed cardinal daringly landed on my table and would have eaten right off my plate had I not shooed him away just inches before he got it. He snagged some eggs from the guest at the table next to me, which attracted a flutter of birds. Meanwhile, I watched with amusement as a staff member took a couple pictures of the crowd of Nenes bathing in the pool before attempting to shepherd them away. He got a bunch of them through the beach loungers, towards the open grassy field, before they darted around the chairs and escaped back towards the pool. He quickly turned around and met them on the other side, trying to get between them and the pool, but one by one, they bravely ran past him and he had to start all over again.
As I paid my bill, I noticed it was time for the feeding at the koi pond, so I found a cozy spot on a beach lounger overlooking the pond and watched as the kids fed the fish for a few minutes. I walked around the hotel property and tried to make it to the beach proclaimed by the "public beach access" but it looked like a muddy mess and I wasn't convinced it would be worth it. So I got in my car, put the top down (at risk, with the overcast sky) and went for a drive.
On my way to a lookout, I clocked many Nene crossing signs, both formal and improvised, and had the perfect view of five or six flying just above the road. A short distance later there were a huge group of them on the side of the road.
The lookout was pretty but a bit crowded. I drove down the road in search of a beach but the connection here is bad an I ended in a cul-de-sac so I decided to stop and take in the nature. As I am parked writing this, a fully red cardinal landed on my mirror for a split second before being startled likely by my head movement to look at it. What a cutie, though! I also heard, among the cock-a-doodle-doo's of the chickens and the squeaky songs of some other birds, and knocking sound perhaps of a woodpecker, but it only went off a few times before I stopped hearing it. It's raining now, and that is bringing down my spirits a bit, but I wanted to jot down some thoughts of the special moments and the joy I have in seeing these animals and the beauty of the flowers, so many seem absolutely perfect. I think that's what I need is just nature's perfect and hilarious unexpected wild animals. Enjoying and appreciating them is a special treat, and one I desperately needed.
I find it funny that so many of my Life List items - which should generally be something of a once in a lifetime event - have turned into a normal, frequent thing. The most predominant example that comes to mind is seeing a show on Broadway. My sister and I saw Wicked when we were in NYC for a wedding. Check! I assumed that was pretty much done. It was awesome! And I'm so grateful we got to do that. Then my boyfriend at the time, Rick, and I planned a trip to NYC. As a gift to me, he wanted to get me tickets to a musical but because he's not really into musicals, he chose the one he felt was most approachable - Wicked. So I saw it on Broadway again. I definitely didn't mind! Later in life, while I was dating Jaiman, we made the tough decision to move to Connecticut with my job. The biggest benefit of living there was the proximity to NYC, and especially Broadway, and we made the most of it. In the year we lived there, we went to more than 10 Broadway shows, including Hamilton (twice), and a handful of off-Broadway hits as well (Spamilton s hilarious!). Moving away didn't end our Broadway attendance. Shortly after we moved, I learned that an alum of my high school whom I vaguely knew was preforming in Chicago! I figured I'd have to go see him sometime. Then COVID happened and I followed his story on social media about how, with the theaters closed, he moved back in with his parents. I bought cookies from him. When Broadway reopened post-pandemic, I wasn't going to procrastinate. He shared dates he'd be performing and I booked a trip. Never mind that it was in January, arguably the worst time to venture to NYC, we were going! We made it in just before a snow storm, and upon landing learned our departing flight was cancelled and we had to rebook for later. Ah well, guess we'll add another show to our trip! We used the opportunity to go to Hadestown. So a once in a lifetime Life List things had been done in spades.
I'm drawing that parallel to this trip, because another life list thing was too photograph an endangered species. As we were hiking Haleakala on Maui a few years ago, my nephew, David, and I spotted the endangered Nene. Our photos were blurry but it was definitely then! Check! Now to be on this island and see so many Nenes and take literally dozens of pictures of different ones - it's almost ordinary if I 
didn't know how extraordinary it actually is.
Let me never take from granted this extraordinary life, and let me perpetually grateful for this extraordinary world.
Oh, and I did finally touch water.
Kauai is known as the Garden Isle for its lush greenery, and the name is well deserved at that. But the feature that has continually impressed me the most is the scale and angles of the mountains that rise from the middle of the island. 
Any view from any angle is an awe-inspiring moment which cannot adequately be captured on photos. I still try, of course, on an ongoing basis. But this beauty cannot be captured on a screen. It needs to be felt and seen with no filters, or at least through a car (or helicopter) window and nothing else.
It's the same
feeling I've felt often when hiking around Yosemite, and once as I drove to a
peak near Big Bend. The monolithic heights, and sheer drop of the cliffs, have
to be seen to be understood and appreciated fully.
I love
technologies and futurism, but of accomplishing this feat, I am skeptical.
trained to be skeptical of the images. Only when you are certain
you can believe your eyes and behold the beauty of nature in its unedited,
imperfect and organically generated form, and you feel those feels.
Perhaps the future isn't about choosing between the digital and the natural, but about treating these real-world vistas as sacred sites of sensory truth. Protecting these places is a form of protecting our own humanity.
