Daze of Vine and Roaches

On the trail to Hanalei

The rain that was forecast for the weekend has barely watered the Heliconia, a plant native to the American tropics and Pacific Islands that sprouts lovely bird-of-paradise type flowers.

We received a big splash yesterday when the faucet was turned on for about 10 minutes. Lucky for us we were not walking at that moment. It's always a rush to find "shelter" (word of the season) when it starts to pour in curtains.

Dark clouds move around above like fluffy chess pieces in the sky. They might just fly by, unchecked, if it weren't for the pointed mountain tops that catch them up. That's where the rain is greatest, creating magnificent waterfalls that we humans love to see.

We try not to leave home on foot without an umbrella. You know, those little collapseable kind that are easy to carry, good for one person only. Make sure you each have one.

Still, the weekend has been mostly sunny, humid and hotter than it has been. This brings out the mosquitoes and our prehistoric friends, the cockroaches.

A little research indicates that there are 19 different species of cockroach throughout the islands. The largest, a three-incher, is the Periplaneta Americana. Some locals have christened it the "747," from the days of that famous Jumbo Jet.

When this species flies through your bedroom at night looking for a place to land with an internal homing device that seeks heads with lots of hair, you are likely to hear a scream.

I am fortunate to have very little hair on my head, a big plus in the tropics.

Your next pet?

Barbara, not so fortunate. Her beautifully thick hair, with silvery sheen, operates like landing lights, throws out a signal to the 747.

Try as I might, I am not a good defense for this monstrous-looking land-air creature. Either I'm too slow or too kind. I prefer to think the latter. Although I'm probably fooling myself.

Barbara has become a first-rate assassin. With paperback in hand, she is a veritable lethal foe for the Periplaneta Americana. I am duly impressed. And ashamed. A shell of a man.

We all seem to possess our strengths and weaknesses. These days of quarantine and sheltering brings out those qualities that make us survivors, or not. Hey, the "cockies," as I call them, have, similar to the whales, been around a lot longer than we have.

Just sayin. And I did fix the screen door.