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"December in Paradise" Dedicated to LeNore Ednie Submitted by David It seemed a bit strange, these banyan and palm trees strung with Christmas lights, these storefronts filled with both t-shirts and wreaths. Santa Claus in swimming trunks! Ah, but this was Hawaii's Big Island, the chain's fiery youngster, and the sheer beauty of this strip of coast made any seasonal anomalies a moot point. December in paradise: not a bad deal at all. We had been to Kailua-Kona before, in the budding month of March, but that visit was more preparatory -- a prelude to the later joy we would find on this molten isle. Our nascent romance was unfolding then, wrapping around us like the sun-kissed curl of a Hawaiian wave; now it was in full bloom, nurtured along by the scents and sights and sounds of a tropical Eden. Plumeria! Hibiscus! Papayas! Geckos, little green sentinels, clinging to pillar and post. Nenes on the flanks of Mauna Loa. Ah, and those incessant mynahs: a flash of wing, an awkward gait, a communal cackling into the night. It was nature's island symphony, a loving chorus, and we simply let it wash over us. Straight to the heart, straight to the marrow. How could we resist? It seemed to be saying: You belong here! Cast off that mainland cloak! Traverse that mighty pond! At night the surf would lull us to sleep. Stretched serenely across cool white sheets, tanned bellies warmed by mai-tais, we could see the roiling foam in our minds, hear the crash of the waves against lava older than antiquity. After the blazing sunset, sleep came easily -- a languorous slumber in the land of aloha. And in the morning, as the sun bathed the sloping green hills and the birds tittered and the trees swayed in the whispering breeze and the crystal sea beckoned us to its reefs yet again, we would stretch our limbs and train our eyes and fill our lungs with the briny fresh air of another day ripe with possibility. Oh, the playgrounds of Pele! Oh, the reaches of Neptune! We have heard the echoes of distant kings, felt the volcanic rumble. On land and at sea, we touch the essence of what this island is about. We tread lightly and in wonder, mindful of its fragility. And on this December day, as we embraced on the sand after a day of snorkeling, the sun ebbing in the Western sky, we knew that this was a place we would always return to, a place that could never be dislodged from our hearts. As we boarded the homebound plane on New Year's Day, we felt a twinge of longing. We felt the spirit anew. We would miss this jagged shore, this boiling thrust of rock; these verdant hills, this lovely patch of blue. We kissed and hugged as the jet engines roared, and, after a heartful talk and one wistful look back, we decided that March and December just wouldn't do it. We promised ourselves more. We promised ourselves that the next time we set foot in the glorious kingdom of Kamehameha, it would be for good.
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