The largest tree in the world and the most sought after tiny blooming plants (orchids) are epiphytic. Epiphytic plants grow upon or attach to another living plant.

If you guess they attach in order to steal nourishment, guess again. These are not parasitic. I have seen orchids (epiphytes) suspended in the air, not rooted in soil, thriving and blooming while taking nourishment from the rain and sun alone. As a consequence, the epiphyte can begin its life as a seed that germanates on another plant and develop a root system primarily for physical support. Many orchid plants find safety at distances well above the ground, where predators are less likely to find them..

One grand epiphyte is the The Banyon tree (Hindu: Kalpavriksha meaning 'Wish Fulfilling Tree'). It represents eternal life because of its seemingly ever-expanding branches.


Photo of Banyan Tree taken by Gecko on the edge of Hilo Bay in a city park 30 yards from the surf. (Given Gecko's recent surf-related experience, he had one eye focused in the viewfinder, the other on the surf behind him.)

An understatement is to describe the Banyon as very large. The Crusoe family (Robinson Crusoe) lived in one. The Banyan begins its life by sending aerial roots downward seeking the ground after securing a foothold. Specialized structures (for example, cups and scales) may be used to collect or hold moisture. When the aerial roots of a Banyan penetrate the ground, they become accessory trunks while thickening and hardening. To make matters more intense, these accessory trunks where they make contact with each other – fuse, creating a web of support for the tree that is now growing upward and outward. The Banyon after penetrating the ground is no longer epiphytic, gaining nourishment from the soil. Because of this aggressive growth, it will eventually suffocate its supporting tree, totally eliminating that tree’s access to available light and space to grow. The network of fused trunk of older Banyans can reach more than 200m in diameter with a a tree height of 100 ft..

Prior to discovering the nature of the Banyan here in Hawaii, while living in Colorado I had come to know that the Aspen grove to be the largest living organism on the planet. Aspens propogate through a common and expanding root system, sending up trees where it is appropriate. Curious isn’t it, that the Banyan propogates its expansion literally from the expanding limbs from above.

Minor deities such as yakshas (tree spirits), Kinnaras (half-human, half-animal) and gandharvas (celestial musicians) are believed to dwell in the branches on banyan trees. Ghosts and demons are also associated with its branches. Because it is believed that many spirits are harboured in the banyan, people do not sleep under it at night.

Women of the Indo-Nepal Terai region crush the prop root of the banyan into a paste with elephants dung and apply it to their head to promote a long and luxurious hair growth. This practice has not become the rage in America or Europe for lack of elephants.

A special whisper to one here, who I have come to love as a true Brother.

What can you see on the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea a pale moon rises,
The ships have come to carry you home.
And all will turn to silver glass
A light on the water, Grey Ships pass into the west.




Lay down your sweet and weary head,
Night is falling, you have come to journey's end.
Sleep now, and dream of the ones who came before,
They are calling from across a distant shore.
Why do you weep? What are these tears upon your face?
Soon you will see, all of your fears will pass away.
Safe in my armes, you're only sleeping.

What can you see on the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea a pale moon rises,
The ships have come to carry you home.
And all will turn to silver glass,
A light on the water, all souls pass.

Hope fades into the world of night,
Through shadows falling out of memory and time.
Don't say, We have come now to the end?
White shores are calling, you and I will meet again
And you'll be here in my arms, just sleeping.

What can you see on the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea a pale moon rises,
The ships have come to carry you home.
And all will turn to silver glass
A light on the water, Grey Ships pass into the west.

Artist: Annie Lennox Lyrics
Song: Into The West (The Lord Of The Rings)

(Photo comes to you from a friend here on the Big Island, who snapped it on a nearby Island.) Thank you.

Curious, isn't it that a sunset such as this can be seen most anywhere. All you need is a stretch of water. And water isn't really necessary, now, is it?

Many of you have generously regarded by pictures as special and some of you, breathtaking. Please provide me the rare opportunity of a word picture painted just for you. Stay with me if you will.

I was introduced yesterday to someone who has always been friend. The breaking wave of a lazy New Jersey summer warms the spirit and remains ever pleasant in my memory. The surf of a particular Hawaiian winter day (yesterday, Jan 2nd) I regarded with the same fondness. Yet she rose more than double in size before me. I did not take this as menacing. Of course, frolicking in the winter NJ surf with its icy storm surge exceeds absurdity. But Hawaiian January temperatures coax the swimmer to the surf zone where sets of 12 – 15 ft. waves approach, breaking with rhythmic cadence. Before venturing out, for some time my wife and I sat silently watching this awesome beauty. Plunging breaking waves would crash with such force that the recoil of foaming broken water would fly to the same height as the original crested wave. This was astonishing to us. For the first time we had heard this surf as we earlier exited our car way up in the parking lot.

Allowing the smaller breaking wave of a New Jersey summer to roll over my back and diving under the skirt of her taller sisters had always refreshed my spirit. It will forever bring a smile to my face. So diving beneath the skirt of her Hawaiian winter sister took no greater effort. Her force skimmed over my back.

Standing on the outer edge of the surf zone beyond the regular breaking waves surprised then distressed me. First, the regular surge lifted my feet higher off the bottom requiring a considerably greater effort than expected in maintaining my head above the water. Second and unknown to me at the time, I had entered a zone where a lateral current delicately and persistently bumped me off my feet, requiring even greater resources to maintain standing equilibrium. But the water remained warm and I had defeated the wave, dancing at her back!

After a relatively brief period of time, I began to become conscious with a growing fatigue. And then I became conscious of a reality that brought the dagger of anxiety.

How would I return to my wife who watched me from the beach?

I was bouncing behind plunging, crashing waves. I could not simply swim within her grasp, for she WOULD grasp me, lift me above her shoulders and slam me to the surf bed twelve feet beneath her. And as I lay there perhaps conscious, she would drop her sledge hammer and break - if not just smother me. I remembered while sitting with my wife moments earlier that the entire length of the coast had been dominated by these same tall, powerful, plunging waves. Spending my energy moving laterally would provide no escape. Nor could I approach from the rear and dive beneath her, for I would be off my feet and the buoyancy of the salt water forbade me from any such attempt. Fear gripped me as fatigue grew.

There was only one way back. If I could time my approach of the crash zone so as to follow her at her rear skirt tails, I could slide in behind her then hurry forward ahead of the next crashing wave. If I were grasped, most of her force would have past.

This was the plan and I carried it out flawlessly – had the conditions been as expected. Certainly as I approached from behind, she reached back, she grasped me, and she threw me helplessly forward. As I was rolling with eyes closed, unknown to me the undertow drew me to her. In regaining my footing, that same lateral current that I thought was on the back side of the wave greeted me at her front. My delay in standing first concerned me then as I turned to spot the next wave, fear and panic consumed me. She was above me!! All I could do was crouch. The force at which she hit me did not destroy me, nor take my breath away. I only had a moment to take a gulp of air in crouching. When this wave was finished with me, moments went by without knowledge of where I was in relation to the shore. Rising to the surface and gaining partial footing in a crouched position I quickly estimated my proximity to shore. My heart fell. It appeared I was no closer. I turned back to her and she immediately hit me again. Again I staggered and stood. And in standing I yelled almost blindly, “Help”. Without turning I spotted a fellow perhaps 10 yards toward the shore who heard me. He quickly yelled, “Let the next one take you in.” I waited for her without turning, feeling breathless while desperately gasping for air. Pounded hard again, I found myself more forward as the water cleared about me. I staggered half upright and forward. It was all I could do to simply stand in the swirling surf at my thighs, for I was spent and losing buoyancy. I groped up the beach to my wife. Watching me all the time, she had no idea why I was now collapsed and broken at her feet.

So given what I have just described, what think you of this much, MUCH larger wave? (not taken by me)

Gecko took these photos along the roadside while dropping into Kona. Most of the bushes stood 12 feet tall.



The Mexican Flame Leaf, or Flores de Noche Buena (Flowers of the Holy Night), or the Winter Rose, grows wild in the United States only in one US state. They are all known to you by the common name of Poinsettia. These huge bushes are abundantly found on the Kona side of our island and come to color outside only when the days diminish to about ten hours of light daily. But in such Hawaiian winter conditions, temperatures that drop below 70 degrees will impede their natural transformation. Those of us on the mainland only know that weeks in a darkroom forces this process commercially.

Is it not comforting to know it really happens naturally? Gaze upon it happening here, now.

The top leaves [bract] of any branch take on a flaming red, white or pink brilliance. They are frequently mistaken as flowers, where the true flowers of the plant are found at the middle of each "bract". The bract acts as attractors to pollinators instead of more conventional petals.

These plants have been more than beautiful. The Aztecs used the sap to treat fever and the bract for reddish purple dye.

Ponsettias are so popular that they represent 80% of all potted plant sales during the Christmas holidays.

A grove of bamboo plants on the path to Akaka Falls (previous topic) flower with unusual beauty. One variety of India bamboo, Mautak bamboo, flowers every 48 years. It last flowered in 1958 and brought famine and war. A caterpillar infestation suggests a new harrowing bloom season is about to commence.

The Melocanna baccifera is regarded as “famine” for India. The bamboo’s bloom-cycle—1815, 1863, 1911 and 1958—has always been followed by famine and political upheaval.

A new disaster may be unavoidable.

How so, you ask?

All populations of Melocanna baccifera raised from the same seed source flower at once, wherever they exist. The last resulted in 3,000 people dead. People say when mautak bamboo flowers, rats run amok, literally. Their fertility rate dramatically increase eating this seed; reports suggest the rats become abnormal. The real frenzy begins in the vast swathes of northeast India, Mizoram, Tripura and Assam, after all the seeds are eaten and the rats attack granaries, fields of unharvested crops, paddy, fruits, vegetables, whatever is available. Ecological research confirms a clear relation between rodent outbreaks in South America since in the 16th century and bamboo flowering and high rainfall.In 1958, Indian citizens revolted, forming the Mizo National Famine Front. Twenty-eight years of civil war followed.

In 2002-2003, 34 villages faced an increase in rodent population. In 2003-2004 another 16 witnessed it. 85 villages have already recorded sporadic mautak flowering, as per a directorate of agriculture report. But when flowering peaks in 2006-2007, a mautam — a famine driven by mautak flowering — is predicted.

To prevent another disaster, government officials are currently organizing a harvest of 6,000 square miles of Mautak bamboo before its flowers bloom. The effort may prove futile. The task is more than daunting with only half of the Mautak under government control. Apparently, the prematurely cut bamboo becomes less useful to be burned and used as fertilizer. Nor is it likely it will be turned into six thousand square miles of fabric and furniture.