A few weeks ago my computer stopped working. It’s up and running again. Sorry, I haven’t blogged for such a long time.
Thinking back to when we first moved here over a year ago, I thought of how I missed the food scene in San Francisco. I lamented over the lack of California cuisine with fresh grown California vegetables and fruit.
A few weeks ago, I wrote of missing walking San Francisco streets with a warm cup of coffee in hand and hanging out in bookstores.
Yesterday, I realized I’ve become accustomed to island living. I watched the morning sunrise, embraced the tradewinds momentarily cooling the afternoon humidity and appreciated the sight of the ocean in the distance from the highway.
Mark and I went to dinner where I ordered Opah. I asked how fresh it was. The waiter said, “It was caught this afternoon and delivered to the kitchen as I started my shift today.”
Super fresh Opah, wrapped in a ti leaf and cooked on the grill with a side of rice and vegetables. Yum!
After dinner, we went to the beach and felt the sand in our toes. We watched the stars in the sky and imagined what lay in the dark distance extending from our island in the middle of the Pacific.
As the evening flights, which took off from Honolulu airport, flew overhead, carrying their passengers home to far-off locations, we waved to each plane and said, “Bye, come back soon!”
Then we gratefully returned to our car to go home. We never have to leave here.