I imagine fifty years ago, a sweet, young couple— fresh from wedding vows, had a goal of owning some land on Maui. They worked, scrimped, and sacrificed until their dream was reachable.
They held hands excitedly and searched for the perfect parcel. Up in Haiku, please. Is it possible?
Of course, honey, her husband sweetly answered in his most convincing manner.
The property was big enough for a moderate house and a pasture with unlimited possibilities. A simple and cozy two-bedroom, one-bath with plenty of room for a large backyard where future children will play. Set the clothesline by the side of the house and the garden with a fence.
We could have a tree-lined driveway like my childhood home in North Carolina. I remember the magnolia trees overhead as we approached the house. Can we line the driveway with trees?
Of course, we can plant trees, my love!
They built the house, planted the trees along the drive, and created the garden. The clothesline dried countless shirts. Children played in the backyard— neighbors, and grandchildren also.
I can fancy a proper scenario if you allow me to fog and wipe the dust from my imagination glasses.
I envision a visit or two to the garden shed— full intent to find a ladder and trimmers for an exceptionally tall project. The ladder on the rusted hook was woefully inadequate in height, which resulted in a diversion. Perhaps a lawnmower oil change took fresh precedence.
Years passed, and the old rocking chair on the porch developed a squeak from backyard babysitting and green bean snapping.
Time ticks by so quickly, doesn’t it? First steps, Easter egg hunts, potlucks, and a stint involving a goat and crutches— a story repeated between hot chocolate sips and laughter every Christmastime. Lives well lived.
Recently, my husband and I spent the day wandering Maui roads to see what we could see. While traveling through Haiku, we slowly passed a cozy house with a tree-lined driveway. My imagination soared. I had to snap this photo.
By Diana Warren
