Pauahi crater 10am I give you this space: the rock at your feet suddenly gaping. Six hundred paces of empty air, or air so full of morning that distance faints. A space full of the years since its catastrophe, a space of shadow where, if you fell, you could count seconds down. Green - perhaps ferns, perhaps ohia trees, so small, so far away, beyond shouting. But this pit is full of invisible light that cannot sing if nothing echoes it. Nothing can give it shape or scale, until a white-tailed tropic bird rises into diagonal volume, trails streamers through from blossom to star-pink blossom.

Poets Trail

Photographers Trail

Exhibition Trail