I stare at the blank screen of my iPad. The blank screen which represents so many future journal writings and blogs. The countless stories representing so many people’s lives and experiences.  These blogs will capture some of those experiences.  More importantly, they are written with the hopes of whetting your appetite for your own travels, your own experiences.  Whether you dream of Paris in springtime, riding the night train to Katmandu, taking a slow boat to China, or attending the Mariachi Festival in Guadalajara, Mexico, all your dreams are possible.

We are living in Waikoloa. More specifically, Waikoloa Beach in the resort area. I say this to differentiate between Waikoloa Beach and Waikoloa Village. The latter is 1/3 of the way up the hill and runs an average 10 degrees cooler.  As I sit on our lanai, our patio, our back deck, our balcony, call it what you will, I relax to the sound of the wind in the palms. I have heard Waikoloa referred to as wai-ka-blow-ya.  They’re not joking. The wind gets whipping up pretty good here, but it’s on and off. Which makes it really cool. The wind will whip up and you can enjoy the sound and the power of the wind through the trees. Then it will die down and be calm and you can walk to the beach or the shops and hotels. Then when it whips up again you are at your destination or lying on the beach and it’s blowing over your head and it’s a big, “Who cares?”

Presently, I am sitting on the lanai of our condo and just over the sound of the wind blowing through the palms fronds I can hear music. Where it’s coming from, I don’t know. Leise and I are discussing it’s speculated origin. As I look up to the mountain to the east towards Waimea, covered in clouds, I am grateful we live down hear where it is warmer. I suggest to Leise that we go for a walk and explore the origin of the sound. Will it be from the 19th hole (the bar) of the golf course?  Will the music be coming from the resort?  What lies in store for us on this next little adventure?   I am excited to find out.

Aloha.

James Christopher

ThruJimsEyes.com