This morning our three-year-old daughter walked out to our backyard, where I was sitting in my office, which is a chair and a table beneath a green canopy like you see at the beach when families settle in for serious BBQing, and handed me a plumeria blossom. It had fallen like so many others from the tree between me and our house, so the gift was not an unusual one. She could have handed me a mango, because they are now falling to the ground from two other trees in the yard. Or she could have asked her mom to pluck an avocado from its perch alongside dozens of others in that sort of tree. Instead she handed me the flower that I am looking at now, as she is off at zoo camp.
It’s not unusual in Hawaii to have things which were unimaginable when I was growing up in Ohio. Lizards darting out of the way as I walk to my office. Birds of paradise in flocks on our bushes. Spontaneous hula in the living room. Our favorite beach 15 minutes away. A three-year-old with a flower for her dad.