I’ll be the first to admit that my attendance to this blog has been what most would call *ahem* less than good, but for some reason I feel truly compelled to give this particular thought a place in this particular continuum.
Two days ago I got out of my car after arriving home from work. I usually tuck my bag behind the driver’s seat when I get in, so I opened my rear door to retrieve it. Underneath my bag I saw an orange that had rolled out of my lunch probably two to three weeks previously. It wasn’t rotten or broken, it was just really soft. Being that I was at my car side and not in my kitchen when I discovered this piece of fruit on it’s way toward bad I had the urge to just huck it. Now, I grew up in the farmlands of Pennsylvania where a good thick patch of woods, thicker than my deep ball anyway, was never far off. I currently live on the island of Maui, and looking around my I realized that there were no appropriate thickets for me to chuck said piece of soft fruit into. When I started to mull over where I could have had enough woods to be able to launch an orange into I realized that woods even that plentiful are extremely rare in my wanderings around this island so far. I’m sure the Iao Valley and of course around the back side of Haleakala there are such things, but here in the middle of the island, across the isthmus and as far as my eye can see…there’s no stand of trees that I couldn’t completely clear with one good throw.
It just makes me sad, is all.