I Have Fallen in Love
As I write this, I am distracted, staring out the window at my neighbor's yard. A light, misty rain is falling and I am in love with Hilo and it's environs. I can't ever recall being in love with a place. Maybe Yosemite, but for me living there would be sheer hell due to the crowds. Hilo has me in it's clutches and I hope it never lets go. That is the feeling of being in love.
I love the lushness of the yards, the chinese red trim of my neighbor's windows, the birdsong which sounds so foreign to my California ears: doves, java sparrows, mynah birds. I wonder if they will every register on my subconscious as being native sounds or will they always sound just a little bit foreign?
Not all moments stand out like this. There are plenty of times when dogs are barking, weed whackers are buzzing, or neighbors are fighting, but I can let all of that go for moments like this.
Last night our neighbor came over to gift us with some coconut manju from Maui. We couldn't ask for kinder people to live across from us. We haven't met all of the neighbors yet, but the ones we have are super. Larry met the lady that lives next door downstairs. She said to call her Grandma June. Larry really does look younger than he is. I'm pretty sure Grandma June isn't 100.
The other day I got caught snooping out of our window in the early morning. I was looking outside just as our neighbor looked up. She waved and I ducked. When I told Larry about it he said, "don't open the windows unless you are ready to talk to the neighbors". It's true. Just as folks in NYC live their lives out loud on the subways, the neighbors here live their lives for everyone to see. And hear. With single walled homes and windows open all the time, I have heard a neighbor sneeze and another neighbor call out, "God bless you". There is a guy several houses down the street who coughs up a lung every morning.
You have to be ready for it, embrace it, and love it or you are going to be one nuha malahini (unhappy new arrival).