So I am already within paradise. Oahu is the local of millions of tourists a year, all seeking after its tropical climate, unprecedented beaches, and laid back lifestyle. Today, I went to a paradise within a paradise- the place where people already acquainted with the beauties of the island go to find relaxation and pleasure. That is- Maunawili Falls.
We caught the bus south. Transferred to another. Started walking. Made our way through pleasant neighborhood back roads, up winding roads cutting through dense jungle, and, eventually, to the trail head. The hike wasn't much to talk about difficulty wise, however we did pass some unfortunate, dehydrated passer-by's. We traversed the jungle, up, and in and out, and through, and across, and over and down, down into a valley, where a river flowed by. Hopping across the rocks, we came to a calm, cool pool, water flowing into it from above. It trickled down over a gradual fall, with tall walls curling up around it all, embracing it. We were the firsts to arrive.
My comrades unvested themselves, and didn't waste time diving in. I held back, and waited for Josh, who opted out for concern of leptospirosis, him having large wounds on his toe. We climbed up the near wall and spied out into the pool. The others swam across the pool, scrambled up the side of the fall, nimbled over the top of it, and then skirted across the far cliff, to a point that stuck out farther than the rest. A rope dangled down next to them for emotional support. There they teetered, on the edge. Jungle, roots, and rock at their backs; air and water at their fronts. And they jumped- one by one, making splashes down below us. I photographed.
And then I went down, and up, and over, and jumped. Worry wore on me in the moments before the jump, worry of things going wrong. My friend counted. I pushed off, out from the rock, and in the moments between the rock and the water, I felt so alive, I felt peace. A thrill. Breath. Life. Paradise? And then I was wet and I swam out.
A leap of faith perhaps. A leap into paradise.
We caught the bus south. Transferred to another. Started walking. Made our way through pleasant neighborhood back roads, up winding roads cutting through dense jungle, and, eventually, to the trail head. The hike wasn't much to talk about difficulty wise, however we did pass some unfortunate, dehydrated passer-by's. We traversed the jungle, up, and in and out, and through, and across, and over and down, down into a valley, where a river flowed by. Hopping across the rocks, we came to a calm, cool pool, water flowing into it from above. It trickled down over a gradual fall, with tall walls curling up around it all, embracing it. We were the firsts to arrive.
My comrades unvested themselves, and didn't waste time diving in. I held back, and waited for Josh, who opted out for concern of leptospirosis, him having large wounds on his toe. We climbed up the near wall and spied out into the pool. The others swam across the pool, scrambled up the side of the fall, nimbled over the top of it, and then skirted across the far cliff, to a point that stuck out farther than the rest. A rope dangled down next to them for emotional support. There they teetered, on the edge. Jungle, roots, and rock at their backs; air and water at their fronts. And they jumped- one by one, making splashes down below us. I photographed.
And then I went down, and up, and over, and jumped. Worry wore on me in the moments before the jump, worry of things going wrong. My friend counted. I pushed off, out from the rock, and in the moments between the rock and the water, I felt so alive, I felt peace. A thrill. Breath. Life. Paradise? And then I was wet and I swam out.
A leap of faith perhaps. A leap into paradise.
This was my favorite spot when I lived in Hawaii. You described it perfectly.
ReplyDelete