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Under the Sun Cynthia Oi |
Storms and elections
can bring clearer outlookTHE skylight at Mary Beth's house around the corner was no match for the fierce winds that ripped across the Big Island two weeks back. Luckily, the "old plastic thing" was set over the shower in the bathroom, so despite the attending heavy rain, there wasn't much damage or much cleaning up to do. It was not a big deal, as her matter-of-fact recounting and a small shrug of her shoulders indicated, just part of life in rural island towns.
Somewhat more isolated than their city cousins, people are better prepared to cope with such irritations of life. Many relied on their own "on-site" energy sources like propane gas generators and wood stoves to heat food and water for their minimal daily needs. Then they waited for the repair crews to make their rounds and re-string power lines pulled down by dozens of toppled trees.
The storm knocked down a lot of trees. I doubt there was an official count, but a tour through the village and along 35 miles or so of Highway 11 south of Hilo exposed scores of them, roots to the sky. Others were splintered or disjointed. Branches dangled from strips of bark. Orange or cream-colored scars betrayed wounds from the thrashing.
The winds pruned the ohia in the landscaped part of our yard, cutting away so much dead wood as well as healthy boughs that the collected debris formed a 2-foot-high ring around one trunk. In the forested areas, the twigs and branches carpeted the ground, enough to provide for years of kindling for warming wood fires. Although some of their leaves were stripped, the olapa survived intact, their flexibility protecting them from major damage. Two of the koa saplings -- our unskilled effort to reinstate their kind in the environment -- listed toward the ground and had to be re-staked to return them to vertical.
Many residents spent lots of money having trimmers lop off and haul away cypress and cedars that leaned perilously over roofs and roads. Others paid with time and sweat, doing the work themselves.
I missed the storm, weathering the downpours in relative safety in Honolulu. So through eyes tuned to the familiar forests and village, the changes last weekend were remarkable. I could see lights from the neighbor's house at the end of the road when in the past the heavy vegetation cloaked their brightness. Along the main streets, houses peeked from behind denuded bushes in what I had thought were undeveloped lots. The field of sky at night spread wider with stars that had been hidden by the canopy of leaves. I could distinguish individual trees and plants in what had been a tangle in shades of green.
I was upset by the destruction, but my best friend pointed out that wind paring broken branches, uprooting weaker trees and ravaging vegetation in general is an organic occurrence, that nature seems to run a brush through her hair every once in a while to keep it healthy.
I was thinking about this as I watched a snippet of news on television the other night. President Bush, in his Texas ranch costume of work shirt and boots, was talking up his stalwart actions after Sept. 11 while Mexico's president played prop on the campaign stage. This tableau was followed by pictures of John Kerry hoisting babies at a rally in his pursuit of the White House.
If nothing else, a presidential election allows Americans a chance to shake the trees. It is an opportunity to reassess matters and weigh their importance. In the months ahead, whirlwinds will spin around issues, gaffes and miscues, bogus or inconsequential subjects.
Neither of the candidates will be perfect matches for every voter. Each will have ideas, beliefs and opinions that may not mesh with our own. But like a windstorm that rattles and churns, the election will open discussions so we can see more clearly where we want to go, where we want to grow.
See the Columnists section for some past articles.
Cynthia Oi has been on the staff of the Star-Bulletin since 1976. She can be reached at: coi@starbulletin.com.