I’ve lived in quite a few places, in my half a century of existence thus far, spanning southeast Asia and the western coast of North America. So I think I can say this with authority born of experience: it helps when you wake up to such colors in the morning.
Simply: it sets the tone of the day. And if for some reason it already started off-kilter—say, having woken up from a bad dream, or woken up to the noises of someone in the household already in a bad mood—the taking in of such atmospherics enables a reset of the proceedings.
So I guess as far as cognitive experience goes, there’s an intimate link between the visual and psychological. I’m sure there have been studies galore about this. But I don’t really need studies to tell me what I can see and feel in my bones, through my visual sense.
I woke up this morning, stepped out onto the lanai, marveled at the view I never tire of, whatever its variegated moods, and let the colors bleed instantly into me, defining the shape of my day.
7 a.m., moonset.
At home, before sunrise...
At Rice Park...
Tangerine cloud at duskof Boxing Day, upcountry Maui.
A view they loved so much. The island of Lanai, floating in the hazy distance.
The poinsettia bushes now see the sky. (After clearing; work to be continued.)
...and here my mother's ashes sleep. (Before clearing)
Here my parents' memory stands...
Half past 7. Sugarcane burn mushroom cloud top catches sunrise from volcano's summit behind me.