Palolo Reverie: July 4, 2017

Sometime late in the languid afternoon dreamscape, both fans turning,

one thrush calling, a peach-colored finch chirp-chirping, the sky

suddenly clears of all but white vapor pillows, cool and far-off.

A passenger jet on approach to Inouye International dozes its way to

silent touchdown.

The rocky behind-the-house scatter gurgles muted babble (a Lowe’s

fiberglass fountain) as distant dogs bark, bark, bark.

Up the valley, a gas-powered blower pushes the wind strong along the

Ko’olaus, draws ominous clouds closer overhead as birds retreat, dogs

go silent, and a weighty craft booms above, eager to land, find the

fun, join the celebration.