Midnight Mutterings | Aloha

||| MIDNIGHT MUTTERINGS by JACKIE BATES |||

I could start out telling about my recent visit to that land in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with the usual (and wonderful) things like sun and soft sand, warm water, spending time with old friends in a new place and a young man whom I first met when he was a few days old, and who at age thirty three has a wonderful job—well a couple of them—involved with working to take care of the ocean. In his case it’s by removing terrible trash: tons of tangled fishing nets.

I could write about shaved ice and exotic Japanese table-top cooked barbecue, or exotic views, warm breezes, sunrises and sunsets over the water. I could compare the Island I visited this time (O’ahu) to others I visited earlier (Maui, Kauai, and The Big Island). I could go on about the same young man, my friend’s son, who, with his lovely partner, spent their rare spare time driving us around in their large panga (which had made its own way from Japan to Hawaii after the 2011 earthquake and tsunami). We went to places we could never have gotten to otherwise. Places we could swim and snorkel with the sea turtles and manta rays and one small octopus (that I have to admit, I didn’t personally witness), and see reefs alive with tiny creatures. I could lament that I am no longer the swimmer I used to be, am no longer totally comfortable in the water, which was/is a disappointing shock. One I wasn’t prepared for at all. What could have changed? Oh, that’s right: I’m no longer as young and strong as I used to be. Bummer.

Instead I will concentrate on two experiences on this trip, one on the beach and one on the plane on the return trip. You can see the first in the photo, if I can attach it successfully and if Lin can tame its size to something acceptable.

So I was sitting on a beautiful beach with friends. I’m not sure which beach, but we were in the shade raiding the snack bag we seemed to have along on every venture, when this small, fragile green thing landed on my arm. She/he crawled around on my hand, explored my head and face, legs. It sat on my knee and posed for photos and videos and allowed me to be the wonderful photographer I am not, and letting me shoot short videos that still amaze me. Which will last on my phone as long I can keep it from disappearing along with the other detritus I leave in my wake. I will definitely try to make you see these wonders if I run into you and you can’t protect yourself from my excitement. I have known other mantids, but never one exactly likely this one. When I was a kid, there was a huge brown crusty praying mantis who lived in the basement bathroom for days. I’m not sure what it ate and to where it eventually disappeared. I was interested in it and tried to protect it from the cats who were equally predatory. Then there were the egg cases I bought through the mail along with ladybugs when I was trying to learn to garden in the Bay Area, and which startled my former mother-in-law when she encountered them in the fridge. (Just another thing that made her wonder what her son had been thinking when he made his personal choices. )

No, those were ordinary mantids, if there is such a thing in such an exotic species. This Hawaiian mantis was bright green, tiny, so delicate I could barely feel when it explored my hands. And I have never seen a mantid with that plume tail. You can see the shadow the mantis made that seemed impossible for so slight a creature. Eventually, after about thirty exotic minutes the mantis took its leave and moved on to a nearby tree trunk, and I let it go, however reluctantly. Still, it was a lovely interlude. And one I was able to record with my tiny phone to revisit at will.

The second unexpected event: a human baby. There was just one baby on the return plane and he and his young mother were my seatmates for six hours. I’m pretty sure no one envied me, but that’s because they didn’t know this pair. The baby is four months old, and has a name I cannot pronounce or remember, and he and his mother had a lovely time as they laughed and smiled and nuzzled. And best of all for me, I got to hold him several times for extended periods while she attended to other matters involved in a long flight. He was exactly the right age to meet a new person: old enough to engage and too young to be afraid of a stranger. He even had a couple of short naps in my lap. It’s been a long time since I’ve held a baby and it was delightful. He accepted me as a new friend and was willing to engage in long conversations in a language I thought I had forgotten, and it seemed we had known and appreciated each other forever. As I mentioned before, I am not fond of flying, but in the company of this very young human, I was as content as I have ever been in a plane. His mother and I did not talk extensively, and I didn’t learn many ‘facts’ about this child beyond his age and that his father is her boyfriend who did not join them on this visit to her family, but who obviously missed his little family, judging by the number and lengths of the texts he sent.

All I know is that travel is certainly enhanced by a small green insect and a very young child and I am as grateful for their company as the wonders of those volcanic islands in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Lucky me.