The surprise of seeing that solid, dark expanse moving perceptibly towards my vantage point at around 3,000 feet—almost as if being pushed by the light further downslope—never gets old.

It is a function of the massif behind and above me, Haleakala Volcano’s peak rising to almost 11,000 feet in the sky. And a function of time.

It makes me think of the Hawaiian legend in which the demi-god Maui, atop the volcano, snared the rising sun with a lasso made of coconut fiber. Hence the name “Haleakala”—house (hale) of the sun (la).