The Jungle Snowglobe

In a few weeks, I'm thinking this will become a travel blog that I actually regularly update! Whether anyone reads it or not, it will be a fun way for me to keep a diary of my upcoming adventures. It will also be a routine writing and photo challenge for me. As someone no longer in school, I've been wanting one of those for a good while.

I have just made arrangements with a Colorado farm via WWOOF-USA so that I can start traveling and working on the mainland. WWOOF stands for World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms. It is a program that allows individuals (or couples!) to work on organic farms in exchange for room and board. The length of stay may vary with each farm, but one thing that is generally promised is an interesting experience.

In my last few weeks as a Hawaii resident, I plan to visit my favorite spots and do some last-minute adventuring. Lately I have been visiting the Manoa Falls area. I love spending a long moment taking in the view when I first reach the trailhead. It hasn't gotten old even after several frequent visits.

In this spot, I soak up the foresty vibe and nothing else seems to matter. Suddenly I realize that Hawaii can be a beautiful jungle-snowglobe-bubble world. If someone were to shake the snowglobe, all that would fall is a bunch of dewy leaves and maybe some cartoon smiley faces. :D

At the pool I totally feel like I could just lay on a rock and take a long nap.

What I love about this trail, despite it being one of the easiest and shortest on the island, is that everywhere I look, I can find some sort of neat texture or object to look at. The ease of the trail means I am free to pay a little less attention to the ground, and more attention to every spectacular detail I can find all around me. Spending my whole life thus far on this tiny rock in the middle of the Pacific, I've discovered that the beauty here often lies in the smallest of things.

A white-rumped shama a.k.a. shama thrush

So why, if I can go to places like Manoa Falls on the weekend, would I want to leave this paradise?

What happens in the five-day stretch between each weekend is important, too. Hawaii is gorgeous, but one can only live in a snowglobe for so long. When the dewy leaves and the cartoon smileys settle at the bottom once more, what happens next? I've waited a long time to find out. The hunger for broader horizons and bigger opportunities must be fed. The snowglobe will always be sitting on a shelf right where it has always been, should I decide to return to it.