I went botanizing at Hawaii a few weeks ago, searching for grasses and observing how and where they were growing in relation to their surrounding environment. The trip started off on a rakish note at Oahu as my cousins and I stepped outside and ordered someone to take a photo of us in our fatigues. More rakishness would follow, but I was soon off to the airport for a flight to Hilo.
Serious botanizing ensued the next day as I noted the grasses growing across a broad swath of the Big Island, at a range of elevations, and in different microenvironments.
From there it was back to Honolulu, more botanizing, and playing the flâneur. We ran around Diamond Head, studied the grasses of Waikiki, and ate at the finest restaurants, rakishly, until late in the evenings.
Alas, such times cannot last forever. I was soon to board another plane, so we met for a farewell dinner on a Friday night.
Rakishness ensued. We would, before the evening was out, reenact a classic childhood scene, adding a few modern flourishes and a six pack of the inscrutable Bud Light Platinum. The stories flowed, of the mythical Ford Island Tiger (which would soon turn out to be much more than a phantom), and of the Warrior Dash and an associated collection of compromising photos, heretofore unpublished (and for good reason). As at any good party, we closed it out by watching the very best comedy on YouTube.
One’s mind turns now to our next reunion, two months hence, at which we intend to find a larger set of stairs and will be joined by our siblings who will surely remind us what it was like when we were cousins.