Garden Isle // Kaua’i

I slept under the sound of rainfall on the roof. The screened in room I am in lets in the sounds of the night and a gentle breeze as the brief torrent passes through. I dream of buoying in the ocean, watching the fish below, paddling out to the breaks and my body is weightless and upheld by the majestic force that is the sea.

Waking up slowly this morning, although the roosters right outside have been trying to call me up for at least 30 minutes now, I am in awe. The space looks dreamy from within my mosquito net.  The sound of wind rushing through all of the lush vegetation around the garden house is peaceful, and so I sit at the edge of the bed, taking it all in.

There is a small library of books in my room, so I found Thoreau’s Letter’s to a Spiritual Seeker and read the early morning hours in the common area. The light in this room is dim, almost misty, due to the dense amount of greenery around, but two skylights let in beams of sky, the sun too low on the horizon yet .  After coffee, I shoo the cats away from my feet–there are three– and make my way back to my room. I have every intention to sit on the neat desk, a wooden plank, but instead sit in my bed to write.

The chickens scratch the ground outside my window, and a variety of birds have now joined in the song of the garden. The thunderous clash of ocean against rocks, fills the  air from afar.

Oahu afforded me exhilarating  experiences, and a lot of firsts, but this feels like home.  I had grown so accustomed to the pace of life there I could not imagine anything different or more spectacular, which  I guess is a testament that practicing “being” really works.

Yesterday, when I first arrived here I wanted to cry due to the beauty of this secluded and sacred space.  I sat at the table of the room, alone, and cried tears of joy. I had to relinquish my goal of surfing daily, to let my foot heal and my body rest.  Sabbath is indeed needed always, and so I wandered instead. Walking around the area to the beach, reading here and there. Considering what about this place made it home to me. Perhaps it was the lush greens, and the mountain trails, reminding me of Portland, or maybe the moist sweet air, warm and tropic, the abundance of plantain trees reminding me of Cote d’Ivoire, or maybe it was the flowers… the same flowers I had grown up with in Mexico that brought up a childhood nostalgia .

4 thoughts on “Garden Isle // Kaua’i

  1. Elisa,

    What a joyous celebration of emotions and life’s gifts through words. I always anxiously await receiving notice of your latest posts. With today’s, I couldn’t click fast enough to read and witness where the days have taken you. Thank you for sharing your poetic adventure. My day is always brighter because of it. Today is even that much brighter. Shine on.

    Love and goodness and peace to you.
    Gary

  2. The quiet places usually end up affecting me the most and I always have trouble explaining it. In Alaska I did a breathtaking Seward helicopter flyover, but somehow my relatively tame hike along misty Little Coal Creek in the rain was what enthralled me more than anything. Glad you found this place!

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