Some days were not so laidback. With three pods of family–each with inquiring, self-motivated kids–some discipline was required. One such days was the days set aside to hike Waimea Canyon. We drove along the shoreline, turned north and soon enough the canyon started to open up until we looked back at a vast, empty sea, but one full of islands. The canyon, with its many peaks and valleys, splash colors everywhere.
The trade winds and the rain nourish the thought that you are enveloped in green.
Unlike Grand Canyon with its desaturated colors and baked feeling, this canyon is alive with color, texture and breath. How inviting.