Sunrise

I went for another run yesterday morning, this time in Wailea, which lies between us in south Kihea and Little Beach in Makena.  But before presenting some of the pictures I took on the run, I wanted to include the little video clip I made the other morning of the birds waking up.  Unfortunately, the full effect wasn't captured because there were no grey francolins joining in.  They must have had a hangover.  According to my guide book, Maui Revealed, these birds "start every morning with a surprisingly vigorous call, which sounds something like a car alarm."

Well, I just realized that I cannot easily upload a video taken with my iPhone, so I'll have to work on that.

My route took me south along Wailea Alanui road. 

Kalo'olawe and Molokini Crater in the distance

Lana'i in the distance

The hill in the background rises above Little Beach in Makena.  It is called Pu'u Ola'i, or Earthquake Hill.  According to Maui Revealed, Hawaiian legend states that this was the last place on the island to erupt prior to an eruption further south around 1790.  

"Lava began quietly pooling beneath the surface in what was supposed to be another typical surface flow.  But because it was so close to the shoreline, sea water seeped into the magma pool.  This water immediately flashed into steam, building up the pressure in the lava pool. Earthquakes began rumbling as the earth struggled to contain the pressure.  Villagers may have begun to notice small amounts of steam coming from the ground.  As more lava and sea water combined, something had to give.

"Suddenly, the ground ripped open with a tremendous explosion as fountains of bright orange and red lava shot into the sky.  It must have been spectacularly large because the entire hill was created as the gas-frothed lava fell to earth and piled up to form the 360-foot Pu'u Ola'i, perhaps in as little as a week."

Another shot of Pu'u Ola'i

Kaho'olawe

Haleakala before the sun made it over

Fairmont Kea Lani

Sprinklers and palms catching the first rays over Haleakala

Phyllis, our correspondent and friend who lives in Denver and has known Mark since his days as a resident, requested that I take a picture of a Banyan tree.  The only one I've seen so far (that I'm aware of) is pictured below.  It stands just inside the entrance to a gated community - not inside the actual gate, manned by a security guard, but in a sort of courtyard area before reaching the gate.

I was trying to get several shots from different angles and was just eyeing catching a shot of the tree with Haleakala in the background when the security guard came out of the gatehouse and asked me what I was doing.

"Just taking some pictures," I replied, standing there in running gear - shorts, shirt, shoes and headband.

"Are you a guest here," he asked gruffly.

"No."

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave the property, sir."  Good grief.  The guy was acting like the U.S. Border Guards I've encountered at the crossings below Vancouver.  It was obvious I was out jogging, but I apparently posed a security threat.  Oh well, at least I got my banyan tree pictures.

Speaking of Phyllis, I will periodically share some of her comments on recent posts.  Regarding scaling the volcanic "stairs" to access Little Beach and Mark's encounter with a jelly fish (which I wrote about yesterday), Phyllis wrote:  "Sorry about the jellyfish ... I tend to forget there are perils everywhere, even in paradise.  I'm afraid I'm with you Joseph, I'd be looking for steps up the wall, but then I don't have that urgent, conquer the Maui wilderness need.   Men kill me.  Storm the jungle with only a beach chair and some sp 40 ...  Maybe we could open a business nearby featuring devastatingly handsome islanders to function as tropical sherpas for the novice expeditioners."

Indeed.