It seems almost a mark of hubris to try to “improve” upon a classic paradigm such as Abraham Maslow’s “hierarchy of needs”, but I’m saved slightly by the fact that I’m not actually trying to improve upon it, I’m trying to adapt it to improve visualization of my own personal development in the next year. A fine-line distinction perhaps, but an important distinction nevertheless.
Maslow, of course, had five levels, and you had to achieve each level before you could advance to the higher levels. One version of his pyramid has the levels as:
Safety – security of body, employment, resources, morality, the family, health, property;
Love/belonging – friendship, family, sexual intimacy;
Esteem – self-esteem, confidence, achievement, respect of others, respect by others; and,
Self-actualization – morality, creativity, spontaneity, problem solving, lack of prejudice, acceptance of facts.
Of course, that last one is not unique to Maslow – it looks like the basic mantra of many approaches to achieving “zen” too.
There also exists a different use of the hierarchy model as guides to various types of development, such as economic development. In some instances, there would be foundational pieces, equivalent to the physiological – establishment of a national currency, for example. These are earlier on, fundamental “up-stream” activities. However, some downstream activities from that, i.e. some that come later, might be specific private sector development initiatives, or even further out, some trade initiatives. Some theorists have treated it more like concentric circles, ripples in a brook after you toss in a “fundamental economic stone” – the first waves start rippling out from the fundamental but additional waves move out too, generating a series of concentric circles where the cornerstones of economic development are close to the origin point while those farther out are able to be addressed once the core is dealt with, i.e. capacity built.
These models are all variations on a theme that there are some developmental aspects which are fundamental and come “before” the others in terms of linear development, while others build upon the foundations and are more like little tentacles of development “shooting out” to sprout a new arm of development, hoping it can take (and keep) hold. Military people use a similar metaphor for their front lines, supply chains, and the ability to establish beachheads/footholds into enemy territory – small strategic thrusts to leap forward in weak or key areas.
What does this have to do with me?
I’ve been playing with my own personal development model on and off for some time. Each year, I tweak it a little, hoping for a slightly different emphasis or nuance that will help me maintain momentum throughout the year. In some ways, it is just a visible representation for me and me alone, a core way of communicating my various personal commitments to myself for the year. A visualization, if you will, of what I’m trying to achieve and how the various pieces fit together as a cohesive whole rather than a laundry list of to-do items. However, the “single category” or single point of origin isn’t a viable model for me. I still prefer the four “colour” wheel of Blue (analytical), Green (emotion), Yellow (Social) and Red (Physical / Action).
Mapping this out, I think I have the following working table of categories / items / issues / questions. I think I only will do three levels though, not the five.
Category
TIER ONE (Basic Needs)
TIER TWO (Developmental Needs)
TIER THREE (Self-Fulfillment Needs)
Blue (Intellect, analytical, learning, organization)
Essential cognitive skills Ability to communicate Order Knowledge
Confidence Language skills Routine Understanding
Respect of others Self-esteem Stability Skills
Green (Connections, emotion, family)
Family Extended family Community Tolerance Awareness Affiliation
Spiritualism Acceptance Connectedness Affection
Respect by others Morality Lack of prejudice Acceptance of facts Intimacy
Yellow (Expression, social, creativity)
Friendship Basic creativity
Openness Functional creativity
Spontaneity Applied creativity
Red (Expansion, physiological, action-oriented, work)
Food Shelter Clothing Sleep Basic health
Employment Resources Property Functional health
Career development Applied health
As you can see, some “issues” appear in all three columns (Order, Routine, Stability) as a logical progression; others such as communication and language skills only appear in the first two presently…I don’t want to be a slave to having perfect chains at all three levels, and some may only exist at one level, although I suspect in some cases that is likely to be a granularity issue.
I haven`t quite figured out what to do with some basic areas that don’t seem to fit “neatly” into the above table…
Environment — part of the “community” in green, or separate? And should community be farther out?
What is beyond the self-fulfillment column — purpose? meaning? vision? goodness? justice? leadership? transcendence to help others?
Are achievements a separate category or just part of each of the other bullets in a sense?
Should I add curiosity, exploration, and competence as a stream? Is that cognitive blue or action red?
Where would I put things that I simply “enjoy” for relaxation (reading, watching TV, movies, games) — are they a level one version of reflection/calm/meditation/stress relief?
Is exercise derivative of other bullets within the red or is it a stand-alone area?
Is travel for blue learning, green community, yellow social or red action?
Once I figure out a reasonably coherent model, I’ll move on to actually working on my goal-setting for the year. In the meantime, all views gratefully accepted.
I’ve been blogging about being Jacob’s dad over the last six weeks or so, and it’s been a challenge. But part of that is just being more aware of some of the day-to-day issues that get lost, fortunately, in the awesomeness of the 98% of Jacob that is fantastic little boy. Today was Jacob’s second last day in kindergarten, and of course it’s performance time. A play, some dancing, a song, etc. And then a slide show that one of the parents put together of pics and videos of the last two years (the kids had the same teacher and ECE for two years, so they did 2 years of videos). It was the same at Xmas six months ago, and the end of year last June.
Most of it is fun, getting to go to Jacob’s classroom and seeing him there. He is SOOO happy that we have come and he clearly wants to show us off that we are there. And we are so proud of everything he’s accomplished.
Then the bad side of being proud of him sneaks in around the corner. When he’s alone with us, it’s easy to focus on the 98%. The 2% is always present, and it is part of him, but it doesn’t define him. But when he’s in a room of his peers, the 2% stands out more than I would like. Videos of the kids doing Head/Shoulders/Knees/Toes and all the kids are doing it, including Jacob…but he’s sitting on his special pillow rather than standing and crouching like the other kids. So he’s sort of doing it, and sort of not. Another video had them in the gym, and all the kids doing some exercise relatively in unison, and Jacob not really doing it. He’s doing his own thing, and moving himself farther away from the group on his own. Self-exiling behaviour, they call it. Heart-breaking to see, is what I call it.
He can’t run like the other kids, he can’t keep up. He tries so hard. Even a few weeks ago he told his mom that he wanted to “practice running” so that he could get fast like the other kids, because when he told his legs to go faster, they actually “went slower” he said. The same week he didn’t want us to sign the permission form for jump rope practice because he said “he couldn’t do it anyway”. It kills me to see him realize that regardless of how awesome he is, there will sometimes be physical limitations that he can’t easily overcome, some physical parts that will separate him from the other kids.
The kids all got to choose their roles for the presentation today — some wanted to dance (5 girls), some wanted to be speakers in the play (about 10), others wanted to do props and set design (including Jacob). Except when we talked about going today, Jacob wasn’t that excited initially — because he said he didn’t get to do anything, he just painted the tree. Like his dad, he doesn’t gravitate naturally to the spotlight (for me, it’s a conscious choice that I force myself to make). And we made a big deal out of his tree, of course.
But when they introduced everyone, the seven or so kids who were on props all stood in a line and spoke one by one. Most of them stood relatively in line. Not Jacob. He moved over about five feet, constantly in motion, constantly moving from foot to foot, grabbing on to the table, lifting himself up by his two arms and swinging. Doing his own thing, because he can’t simply stand still like the others for very long and wait.
It doesn’t change anything about Jacob’s abilities, or who he is. It doesn’t define him anymore than it did before. But when I spend so much time reminding myself of the importance of the 98%, it bothers me a lot when I see the 2% so glaringly in contrast with his peer group. And it worries me for his social side in the years to come. He just started seeing himself as different this year and his self-illusion of perfection has started to crack a little.
I know reality sucks, but I just wish he could hang on to that illusion a lot longer…or that I could.
Without naming names, someone read my post about controlling my temper, and said, “Okay so what else did you get from your tadpole years?” Which is a pretty good question, so I’ll see if I can elaborate a little.
First, as I said, my tadpole years were triggered by a realization that I had almost no idea what I wanted in a partner, and to be blunt with myself, no real clue what I was doing when it came to dating, etc. I was just “drifting”. Which is fine if you’re relatively mentally healthy, not so good if you aren’t, yet still care about your impact on others.
Which means I started to figure out the kind of woman I wanted to be with. Up until that point, I did have an occasional “damsel in distress syndrome” going on. Some call it “DIDS”, others call it the “wounded bird” approach. Which means that sometimes I was attracted to wounded birds who needed help mending their wings. This often shows up more often in women, according to the literature at least, that a woman is going to “fix that broken man”, but often that goes further to looking at more extreme forms that include abuse. This wasn’t about being so wanting to help that I would put up with abuse, but I did feel protective sometimes to a point that looked and felt like romantic interest. A bit messed up, even though lots of people have it and think it’s a strength, not a weakness. For me it was a weakness — I had to be with a woman for the right reasons, not the wrong ones, and being with someone so I could “help” them was not a reason to date them. Friends, yes, dating, no.
Overall, and in no particular order, I wanted a woman who was relatively independent. Both smart and bright (i.e. intelligent and quick). Highly functional. Stable, no love for drama for drama’s sake. Worldly, or at least, not simply limiting herself to a provincial / small town view of the world, or simply curious about the world. Patient. Funny in her own right, not just simply laughing at other’s jokes. Not someone who loves cocktail parties and galas, but more board games, reading, a few friends, barbeques. Was I looking for all those things in one person? Not really, but in some ways they were flags for me that would likely lead to an unsustainable relationship due to the way my mind/world works on my side.
For me, aggressively warm, fuzzy, over-the-top social, clingy, etc. — all of these would suck energy out of me way too fast. It would be like a vampire feeding on a corpse. I just don`t have the energy reserves to do that for longer than a day. And I`d quickly resent having to do it, even if they were to “tone it down” as part of the compromise. Similarly, I have no interest in cocktail parties and galas. I remember a conversation with an old boss whose view was that every man should own a tuxedo, because if you have one, you find occasions to wear it. For me, that would be the exact reason NOT to own one, because I wouldn’t want to go to the events where I would wear it. I’m glad others enjoy it, I do. And I see their photos and things, and I’m even a bit envious. But I consider it a good month if I can get away with not wearing a suit or tie at any point during the month. I like getting dressed up occasionally, but I’d rather be at home than somewhere that requires the monkey suit.
In terms of interests or knowledge, I wanted someone with an outward perspective because it would challenge me, it would bring more to the relationship. I don’t mean a globetrotter who’s never around, or doing a long-distance thing, but I also have a tendency to overexplain things, to put my stamp on things, to express my views unsolicited (i.e. I talk a lot), and I didn’t want someone who would just listen and not push back. I’ve dated people who said they liked listening because I explained things sometimes so well, it was great. But not something I want to do every day.
Yet at the same time, I don’t want someone who pushes back just for the sake of drama…some people like it, it adds spice to life, and I admire passion, but it is a bad combination for me as per my previous article about my temper. My temper is vicious when unleashed, and not only do people not deserve it, I don’t want to be the person who says or does things because my temper gets the best of me or because someone is pushing buttons just to watch me blow. Instead, I committed to not being with people who trigger it regularly (certain family members, some girlfriend types), and when I do feel it potentially being triggered or at risk, I remove myself from the situation. Those are the two most effective anger management techniques I can employ. Which doesn’t mean I don’t get angry or irritated, or more accurately, highly frustrated at times, but rather that when I do, I remain in control. Which isn’t always apparent to others who may still find me explosive, particularly when it’s a home-repair project that isn’t going well.
And much of the rest was simple compatibility — I like to joke, laugh, be entertained by stories told in funny styles, do informal things, play board games, read, share books, have barbeques.
As I said, that was one of the main triggers — couplehood.
But it also expanded in other directions. For example, a better knowledge of my interests, personality, strengths, weaknesses. I’m good at explaining things, as I said above, but that isn’t exactly right — my real skill is in explaining things in ways that others grasp the fundamentals, and to see a different way of looking at things. Which some friends have used from time to time to help them understand why person X did something they didn’t understand. When I was at university out west, I got a nickname from the one guy who thought I was partially psychic. Except, like The Mentalist, I was just good at extrapolating from people’s behaviour back to the likely cause and motivation. I’ve lost a lot of that ability over the years, I don’t practice as much as I did then, but it’s still a skill I use from time to time.
I also thought a long time about my career. I “came into my own” at DFAIT, and yet I also never wanted to be like the stereotypical DFAITer. I did a MPA degree but didn’t care what was going on in Parliament, didn’t need to be “seen”, didn’t want to compete with colleagues, network with power players, etc. I like my work, I like my job, I like corporate work. But it is not who I am. And I won’t “play the game” to be a more powerful player in the playground. I didn’t have the words to describe it at the time, but the short version is that regardless of the ocean I’m swimming in, I would rather be a dolphin than a shark. I also realized I’m pretty good at the corporate files, although I only partly realized it during my tadpole years. It was later that I fully embraced it, but the starting point was realizing that I didn’t have to be the shark or top dog or leader of the pack, whatever metaphor floats your boat, I just want to be useful. Maybe that’s just in a supporting capacity.
I also developed a strong dislike for kowtowing to people because of their level. It is too much like schmoozing to me, it seems fake and artificial. So I will talk to an ADM the same way I’ll talk to a colleague on the floor. Informal, open, honest, and probably a bit more irreverent than most.
On finances, I am doing okay now, and that is partly out of the tadpole years. I realized that my income was going to go up, I was going to move up. But just because I did, my lifestyle didn’t have to keep up. Sure, it helps to have a working spouse that has a decent income too, and while we don’t live super extravagantly, we also don’t live frugally either. We spend what we want to spend, and we’re a little more money conscious these days with lots of significant pressures all hitting with a three-year timeframe, but ultimately, we’re in a happy medium-space. We could get by with less, we could spend more, we’re fine where we are. And that’s a pretty good place to be. If I was still single, it would be about the same.
On the extended family front, I also set limits on my role in the family. When my father died, I tried to do everything for my mother. Helped with all the finances, did the eulogy, etc. I remember six months into the year, it was time to do the taxes, I was stressed about the process, and I remember getting frustrated that I couldn’t get my mother to just go to the local store and fax me copies of the receipts or photocopy them and mail them to me. Never mind the fact that I had two brothers and a sister living in the city who could have helped just as easily, I was doing it to help but also because I liked feeling needed. While others were often in conflict, I was the peacemaker in the family. The one who got along with all five of my siblings, and didn’t have any of the five of them actively hating me. But it was killing me. I wasn’t being myself, I was playing a game, following a script. And I said, “Game over.” I stopped being the facilitator. I stopped being the peacemaker. If people pushed, I pushed back. When my mother wanted to stir the pot to create some conflict, I’d let her stir and then just ignore it completely. I wasn’t going to play that game. And I didn’t. When my mom died, she wanted me to play that game again, to find a way to make all the siblings get along. I refused. I did the co-executor thing when I wanted nothing to do with any of it, but when it was done, so was I. I am friends with my siblings who act like they want to be friends. But if they want to create drama or play games? Totally not interested. I have five direct siblings, and if either of two of them died tomorrow, I likely wouldn’t go to the funeral (well, to be completely candid, I wouldn’t be welcome at one of them anyway). Family was family until they made me make a choice, and I chose me. The real me, not the peacemaker role. To them it probably looks like I became a bit of a jerk; for me, it means I found my spine.
The second-to-final piece I got out of it was a more defined interest in other parts of my life. The most visible form of that is writing. An extended friend once referred me to the “guy who blogged before there were blogs” because in the mid-90s, I had an email newsletter that I did for friends that often combined humour with some of my own commentary, and the odd trivia question. I liked doing it. I liked interacting with people. I used to run an email trivia game, pre-website, where I had 75 people from around the world playing my game. Two of those people are on my FaceBook friends list still, 15-20 years later. And I was starting to think about becoming a writer, maybe even a mystery novelist. I’ve gone in different directions since then, but the interest in writing is still very much there.
Finally, I thought a lot about the nature of friendship, relationships, love itself. Emotions. The expression of that emotion. The nature of love in a relationship. And I realized something simple yet profound. In its simplest form, we often go through life feeling things we don’t mention, sometimes for fear of embarrassment or lack of reciprocity. But I hated that idea. So, just as I had started expressing my love for my father, I made the commitment to myself that if I felt love, I would express it. Not in a creepy way, just that if I was in a relationship with someone, and I felt it, I would say it. I wouldn’t wait for the right time, I wouldn’t hold back for fear of embarrassment. I would say it because I felt it, not because I wanted to hear it back.
All of these things came out of my tadpole years. There are others, but those are the main ones. Any one of them could be a separate post probably, but this is the gist of my distilled PolyWogg version. So when people ask me what else came of my tadpole years, my answer is simple.
Day 5 in Hawaii was a bit of a sad day as we had to leave Hilo to head to the other side of the island. We had only been there 4 days, but already we were starting the “Hawaiian tourist” conversation with ourselves of “what-would-we-do-if-we-lived-here”. It was awesome in Hilo. But we were booked for only 4 days on that side of the island, and it was time to move on to Kona. Before leaving Hilo, we wanted to explore a bit around the park next to our hotel. Note that Hilo is a much quieter, simpler world compared to the hustle and bustle of Kona (the other side of the island). Which isn’t to say it doesn’t have a strip with Walmart and restaurants and stuff, it does, but no giant cruise ships docking, no “pier mentality” that exists in a lot of tourist ports. It just seemed like there were a lot more regular people around.
This is our hotel, not that we saw much of it. There was a pool out of sight to the left — we never used it. There were at least two restaurants inside, and we used the one the first night, I think, and the other for breakfast, but other than that, we were out and gone for the day.
I confess this was the first time I’d ever seen a stand-up paddleboard. It looked ridiculously easy, but apparently, it is quite hard to learn to balance properly.
Time to check off another bucket list item — seeing wild sea turtles swimming free!
The next two types of trees are variations of banyan trees, both with intricate root and limb structures, and incredible canopies per tree. One of my favourite sights was directly opposite the hotel, where there were rows of these trees. So unlike anything you see in and around Ottawa.
Yes, the cliché is true: there are lots of Japanese tourists in Hawaii, which isn’t surprising since they are only a single direct flight away, and there are, therefore, lots of little Japanese-style pagodas in parks. This one had a panda in it, so obviously even more special!
We finally left the hotel and started moseying towards Kona. Still within Hilo, a little ways west of the main part of the downtown area, is a park called Rainbow Falls. I think it’s what we saw on the helicopter ride, but we concentrated only on the first waterfalls seen here.
Nice still waters, nobody around.
And a tree with bright orange blossoms. Great colours.
Continuing across the south end of the island, we stopped for lunch in the volcano park and then drove for a while before taking a rest stop at Black Sand Beach. The guidebooks all raved about this site, but to tell you the truth, I have no idea why. Yes, it was black sand. Yes, it was a beach. Yes, there were turtles swimming around. But it wasn’t an awesome beach; the sand was a bit coarse, and the view wasn’t spectacular. Interesting, but I’m glad we didn’t have to detour to get to it.
We left the beach in the early afternoon and kept driving to Kona. For such a small distance on the map, it seemed like we would never get there. We stopped a couple of times, but mostly, we spent the day in relatively slow-paced transit, winding our way across the island up the western coast to Kona. As I mentioned above, Kona is a “port” town that springs to life when the ships hit the dock. When we arrived, there was no ship and everything seemed to be in “wind-down” mode. Which was fine for us. We checked in, made plans for the next day courtesy of a tour operator’s place, had a snow cone, and wandered back to our hotel. A nice, relaxing day in Paradise, albeit with a long, slow drive in the middle of it.
Andrea and I had seen the big volcano and the lava fields, and the volcano itself was an item on my bucket list that had now been checked off. It was a good month for bucket list items — I’d gotten married for love, we were in Hawaii, we had seen a volcano; it was all good. But day 4 was a chance to check off the volcano again, combined with another bucket list item — go for a ride in a helicopter!
Blue Hawaiian had the best configuration for us, and had flights out of the Hilo airport rather than the big one back by Kona. We got set up the day before, I think, and went out to the airport for a mid-afternoon flight. I was pretty excited, and a bit nervous. Lots of stories flooded the guidebooks about people going on the flights and not being able to sit together, or the flight not going at all supposedly because of weight distribution (i.e., in reality, they didn’t have enough paying passengers to cover the fuel cost). But there were two couples, ourselves and a younger Asian couple. I think they were honeymooners, too, but I can’t remember if they were married on the same date as us or not. They sat in the front, Andrea and me in the back, on opposite sides, but we could still hold hands. Excitement eroded the nervousness, and we took off.
The first photo to come up? Our helicopter awaits!
Rising up, we could see the ocean to the east of the airport.
The big town of Hilo, which is where we stayed on the east side of the island.
In the next shot, you can see some very squared fields, with barriers around for soil and wind erosion. These were macadamia nut farms, one of the big exports from the island.
The first stop on the tour was above the main active volcano, of course. Mind you, you can’t get that close to it given the thermal updrafts and the sulfuric gas, but it was cool to see.
Running all the way from the crater to the sea is a line of vents where steam has worked its way to the surface. The steam vents follow the magma that flows under the surface.
Another, closer shot of the volcano.
And turning around, a shot from the crater all the way to the sea where the magma is hitting the ocean.
A lava “delta”, which is not the technical term I’m sure, but it does look like a delta bed from a river, except it was a river of molten rock rather than water.
The lava bed that runs just above the entry point into the sea.
It’s hard to see, but you can see a small white square at the seven o’clock position. Can you guess what it is? Don’t worry, we have better shots of it.
It’s a house. That somehow, some way, survived a lava flow. It’s relatively intact.
Moving on to the magma…It’s impossible to see at this resolution, but at the 1:30 position, you can see a hint of the magma hitting the open air, and dropping into the sea.
Fortunately, in this shot, no magnification or searching is needed — bucket list item confirmed x 2 — helicopter ride AND active volcano! Check!
A little farther out to sea, you could see the size of the immediate lava field. The old one is way far to the right and the one we were hiking on the day before is a couple of miles to the left. Later, we’ll see shots of the plumes of steam below at night, from a position about half a mile or so to the right.
More lava, as seen from above.
Okay, this next image needs a small explanation. Look at the 9:00 o’clock position, just to the left of centre. Do you see a nice orange spot? That’s a vent. You can see it better in the second image below. These are holes in the crust, often where it gave way or a bit of magma kept splashing up and making a hole. In the second image, you can see the orange glow of the active magma flowing below. It is hot, it is identifiable, and you know what else? It’s a magnet for morons. I swear to god there are people who hike across that old crust to try and peer down into the vents. Maybe not directly down, but pretty close. If it collapses? You go for a magma swim. No one knows how thick the crust is, or what’s going on underneath that little cavern. The experts send little robots or dangle cameras on poles from 50 feet away while wearing full asbestos gear (which might protect them for a second if they are just scrambling on cracked rocks, not directly in magma). But some of the tourists go right up and look down. Future Darwin award winners, no doubt.
The helicopter tour then left the volcano area and took us on a tour around Hilo. These are the Rainbow falls, I think. Might have been the Akaka falls, but seems too close to Hilo to me.
This is a shot of the Hilo harbour, with our crescent-shaped hotel a little off-centre to the 4:00 position.
Or a full shot of it on the left.
After the helicopter tour, we headed off to the lava field for a night display. We didn’t know quite what to expect, and to be honest, we thought of not going. We had heard about it, but we’d seen it from the fields already (little to see from a distance) and we’d seen it pretty well from the helicopter. But the helicopter pilot recommended it and said it was worth a go. The cost was minimal, and we had nothing else booked for the night, so off we went. It was a bit hard to find, and we were potentially lost more than once, but we eventually ended up where we needed to be. Not a lot of signage, but we got there. When we went to park, it felt like I was at a country fair or exhibition back home. People parking in fields, some young people out directing parkers where to go. But note that we were parking partly on old lava field. It was a rental, but I was still a bit nervous about punctured tires.
Once you get out of your car, you have about 3/4 of a mile to walk to the viewing area. No problem, right? Welllll, that’s not exactly the whole story. First, yes, there is a path. Over rocks, lava, trees, between brush, over brush, over a creek, etc. In daylight, this isn’t a big deal. Coming back in the dark? Not so fun. Second, if you fall, you’re skinning yourself on lava rock. My shin took a beating. But the trip was worth it. Check out the sky and the colour of the steam plumes from the lava below. But as much as I was worried about the hiking, bear in mind that Andrea and I planned ahead and we had actual MEC hiker boots/shoes. There were other people “hiking” on this trail in flip-flops. FLIP-FLOPS! On lava that shreds rubber! Eek!
That was worth the price of admission, just for the colours of the sunset.
Now, here’s the attraction, and what you don’t see during the day. The magma is not gently pouring into the sea. It’s a violent, raging, burst of hot molten rock. It explodes. It erupts. It hisses. It flashes. It sparks. Even at dusk, it was impressive.
As the sky darkened, the colour of the magma brightened.
By nightfall, it was the only light. Taking pics with a handheld point-and-shoot camera was extremely challenging. Videos were almost impossible. Lots of more knowledgeable and/or more prepared people with full DSLRs and tripods. We made do with what we had. Eeringly quiet despite some 200 people being around our little area trying to look over shoulders, get a bit higher on the magma near us. You could have gone closer to the sea, bypassed the fence and walked closer. No real security to stop you, but fortunately we didn’t have any stupid people with us that night. I’d love to be able to do that scene again with my DSLR. We got some good shots, but a better zoom would have been awesome, too.
I’m going to close with five videos.
First, I promised a copy of the full helicopter video (broken into three videos). It’s great, but I warn you, the trip is almost an hour long. Probably not something you’re going to plow into unless you’re really dedicated.
The fourth video is from the night lava and shows a lot of the plumes.
The fifth video is the money video…it shows fireworks going off by the magma, which was mother nature’s contribution to the night. They’re not actual fireworks, it’s just the magma sparking.
Another awesome day in Hawaii, and our last night in Hilo. Sigh. I know that we went to Kona next, it’s not like the vacation was over, but Hilo was our introduction to Hawaii, and despite the amazing scenery to come, Hilo will always remain a bit special in my heart. On to day 5…
