Aia au ma ke ala kupuna, ma Kipahoehoe i ka moku o Kona Hema, moku o Keawe. Ku i ke ala maa i ka hele no ka po'e pohaku o Kona...
I remember standing there, and feeling the heat pouring from the 'a'a flow around me, and being thankful for the thick boots that kept the hot water-worn stones from my feet, and I thought on both how tough the kanaka of this district had to be, and on how the trail of boulders across the 'a'a must have taken hundreds of strong backs to place. I wondered how old the trail was, and felt strong connections with those who had walked over it before.
Further along the trail, in the hottest time of the day, a lone, large iliahi tree beckoned about a stone's throw mauka from the trail, so I picked my way slowly over the 'a'a to enjoy its shade, and there, to my great surprise, I found a large iron 'o'o leaning up against the tree, its surface was pitted with slow rust of decades, but at two spots, where hands would have held it, the metal was without corrosion, yet so hard had this 'o'o been used that the tool was visibly narrower at those two grip points! I took the 'o'o and immediately noticed that where my hands would comfortably grasp was almost a foot lower than where the hands of its owner had been. I thought: He kanaka nui ikaika no ia! I hefted the 'o'o and it was dense, heavy, and strong, and I wondered on the endurance and power of the kane kahiko who had carried it daily on the hot coastal trails. Why was it left here? How long had it waited for me to be called to the tree to find it there?
I considered keeping it, but instead, placed it back in position, leaning against the grey rough bark of the kumu iliahi, and after voicing my aloha, returned to the trail and my mission of the biological survey of this aina wela.
pipi holo kaao