Hilo Bay

I decided yesterday to do one of the personal things I had kept putting off.
With Karol's concurrence, I drove down to Hilo and rented a kayak for the morning.
There was no rain and only a very light wind on a sunny day, and I easily made it to the tsunami wall in the bay. (The wall appears as a low shadow in the distance in the first picture, well beyond the small sailboat.) The swells out beyond the wall frightened me, so I headed back in to shore. The ride in was rougher than going out, as it seemed I was fighting the tide.
Back on shore, I got my breviary from the car and prayed Morning Prayer, praising God for the majesty of His creation.
I saw Mauna Kea in the distance (see the second picture, with the kayak in the foreground), the highest mountain in Hawaii.
I was tired and had plenty of chores to do back at the house, so I strapped the kayak back to my car and returned to the rental agency.
When I got back to the rental location, I had a nice visit with the owner of the business. Turns out that he is a neighbor of mine, and operates a hostel just a mile from our house here on the mountain. He was a rough Texan, interspersing curse words throughout his conversation, telling me how he had managed to thrive on the Big Island, where it can be pretty tough. When he showed me a picture of his arrival in Hawaii 35 years ago on a sailboat he had built and with his two lovely children posing with him, I asked what the kids were doing now. His gruff exterior instantly changed, when he informed me that his son had died 10 years ago in a motorcycle accident. I told him I lost a child as well, and he shared something I hear a lot, but now question, regarding how you never expect to lose a child. I think that is a parent's worst fear, and it was always at the back of my mind. Before Aaron died, I hoped it would never happen, as I hope now that it does not recur with our other three children. But it can be a violent world, and I hope and pray for the continued grace of life for our family and for all.