Maui perspective

Well, we made it. The flight certainly wasn't easy, but Sarah demonstrated that she's every bit the superstar mama I knew she was. After a long flight where we packed three bodies into two coach seats—which I'm pretty sure are designed to seat one and a half people semi-comfortably—we needed to stretch our legs a bit. So, Sarah and I went for a run this morning. We didn't say much to each other. We didn't have to. We just let the Island do the talking and it had plenty to say. 

We started under an indigo sky with stars overhead, lightning striking in the distance over the pacific to our left, and a rising sun beginning to vignette Haleakala* to our right. The Island said "good morning."

We ran by the site where we pledged to spend our lives together. Neither one of us mentioned it. Like I said, we were letting the Island talk, and it's rude to interrupt. 

The sky began to brighten, which the Myna bird takes as its cue to wake the rest of the sleeping Island. 

Hibiscus flowers open and their scent coats the inside of my nostrils, making every deep breath a pleasure; this is the Island's reminder that every breath is a gift.

We jogged past a fleet of canoes which reminded me of how the first Polynesians came to Maui, and how long, difficult, and treacherous their journey must have been. This was the Island offering me perspective on how "difficult" flying coach with a 5 month old really is.

*the volcano responsible for creating this insanely beautiful place.