From my family to yours, Merry Christmas, and Happy Hanukkah to my Jewish friends.
Blessings all around as you celebrate with family.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2024
Merry Christmas & Happy Hanukkah!
Hawaii Day 3
On our last day on Oahu, we signed up for a circle tour of the island. However, thanks to our skilled and knowledgeable bus driver, it was more of an immersion into the Hawaiian culture. We dove in.
A native of Oahu, Lani knew all the places to stop, including a few that weren’t on our official itinerary. She made a lovely tour luscious.
Before we ever boarded the bus, a bright rainbow arched across the early morning sky. It wouldn’t be the last we would see.
Our first stop was an overlook along the main highway, which offered spectacular views of the Pacific Ocean and a stretch of ancient lava coastline. Unfortunately, the waves weren’t big enough to give us a frothy show at the Halona Blowhole.
Please click on the photos to enlarge them.
However, in a small cove below, a few swimmers braved the steep and rocky descent to a secluded beach, where wave after wave lapped at the small sandy shore. I could have spent hours soaking in the view, the balmy breezes, and the warm sunshine, but Lani had other places to tantalize us.
We drove inland and entered the Valley of the Temples Memorial Gardens. Set against curtains of solid lava adorned with lush greenery, a bank of lacy clouds hovered over the temple grounds.
Located at the base of the Ko’olua Mountains, the non-denominational Buddhist temple was surrounded by abundant vegetation, large and small. A sprawling, immaculate cemetery covered the rolling terrain between the highway and the temple.
Recent heavy rains had muddied the Swan Temple Lake. Still, the setting drew me in, daring me not to take a photo. I happily succumbed. We also rang the giant gong for good luck. I’d say it worked.
The next stop was Ko’olauloa Waimea Falls. I walked up to the falls, where some high school students enjoyed the cascading water. On its way to the ocean, the stream split the ravine, guarded by heavily wooded steep flanks filled with brilliantly colorful flowers and various songbirds I couldn’t identify. It was as if the incredible environment effortlessly drew me up the slope and back down.
Please click on the photos to enlarge them.
Too soon, it was time to continue our drive along the Kamehameha Highway, which offers beautiful ocean views. We passed multiple local parks, a testament to Hawaii’s commitment to preserving public green spaces. However, due to rising sea levels, shore and beach erosion are ongoing battles.
Along the Kamehameha Highway.
Our next stop was the Dole Plantation retail store. There, people enjoyed the famous Dole Whip while others browsed or shopped. Soon after leaving there, we passed acres and acres of agricultural land, some planted with pineapples.
Our knowledgeable bus driver wisely took the counterclockwise route on the circle tour of Oahu. While we were returning, most traffic was headed out of Honolulu. Before we hit the city, we stopped at a pass that overlooks the capital.
We had a 180-degree view of Honolulu and the surrounding mountains. Rain pelted one side of the urban setting while the other was dry. We braved strong wind gusts to enjoy the view and feel the rain.
We snaked our way down through neighborhoods of pagodas, apartments, schools, skyscrapers, unkempt houses, and urban parks to reach sea level. The tour was over, but the best was yet to come.
After dinner, our orange dessert was a spectacular sunset on Waikiki Beach. The next day, we flew to the Big Island.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2024
Hawaii Days 1 & 2
My wife and I couldn’t wait to get to Hawaii. Our flight plan took us from Washington, D.C., to Los Angeles, California, to Honolulu. We weren’t looking forward to two long flights.
Little did we know the travel time would become even longer. We rose at 4:30 a.m. for a morning flight to LAX. Despite some turbulence in the west, the flight went well overall. The flight to Honolulu was a different story.
About 10 minutes over the Pacific Ocean, the pilot announced that we were returning to LAX due to a compressor failure that controlled the plane’s hydraulics. Even with the little I knew about commercial aviation, I realized we would be on an emergency return.
We landed fine, but seven fire trucks surrounded the plane to check the brakes and tires for any overheating or fire due to landing heavy. Everything was fine, and we deplaned, wondering what was next.
We waited until another plane and crew arrived. The gate agents announced a later departure time more than once. We were to arrive at our hotel in Honolulu around 6 p.m., but it was actually 11 p.m., so our dream of watching the sunset on Waikiki Beach on our first day was just that—a dream.
There would be other days and sunsets. We were in Hawaii, the 50th state, to join the Union.
Our first full day on Oahu was election day. With all the hype and drama throughout the campaign, I was glad we were far from the mainland. Poor Hawaii. They vote knowing the election has already been called by the time their polls close. That was the case again in 2024.
We met our group and tour guide for an early breakfast. We had chosen a small group tour, meaning the group was limited to 26. However, half of the group had canceled for multiple reasons, so we only had 13, plus Debbie, our guide.
The breakfast was delicious, and our small group climbed onto a 46-passenger bus. We spent significant time touring the Waikiki Beach area of Honolulu, which has many shops, markets, and historic buildings. We saw the Iolani Palace, home of the last reigning Hawaiian royalty. King Kamehameha’s statue was across the street in front of a government office building.
The Hawaiian State Capitol. 
King Kamehameha’s statue and government office building. 
Iolani Palace. 
My wife and me. 
The view of Diamondhead beyond Honolulu on the road to the Punchbowl. 
The flat gravestones in the Punchbowl. 
The memorial in the Punchbowl to those who died in the Pacific. 
The USS Arizona Memorial, Pearl Harbor. 
Names of those who died on the USS Arizona. 
The US flag above the memorial. 
The USS Arizona Memorial. 
The Navy boat that shuttled us to and from the memorial.
We drove through the Punchbowl Crater, home to the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific, which honors U.S. military members who died serving their country. Since commercial vehicles are prohibited from stopping, we could only view it from the bus.
The solemn respect for those who died continued as we visited Pearl Harbor. We boarded small Navy transport boats to see the U.S. Arizona Memorial. The ship sank during the attack on December 7, 1941, and 1,177 sailors and Marines were buried in the rubble of the battleship. Out of respect, visitors were silent as they walked around the memorial. It was a stark reminder of the brutality of war.
That seemed to drain the strength from us, and I was glad the group headed back to the hotel for the rest of the day. Before dinner, I hustled to get a shot of Diamondhead from the beach before dinner. Hotels are built so close to the beach that it’s hard to get a decent shot of the famous landmark. When I returned to our room, the heat and humidity had soaked my clothes.
We enjoyed our dinner in the hotel’s open-air lobby. We were supposed to dine around the spacious pool, but with rain a possibility, the staff moved us under shelter. We knew the results of the election before our food arrived.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2024
Against a Dappled Sky
As I sat at my computer, I heard a familiar roar. I grabbed my camera and raced outside. But I was too late for the shot I wanted.
The low-flying DC-3 airplane had already zoomed west and out of range for a photo. However, I had seen this pattern before. I figured the plane was on landing approach to a private airport eight miles southeast of us.
Sure enough, the plane turned south and then southeast into view. I snapped three quick photos, but the aircraft was again out of sight. When I viewed the pictures on my laptop, I was pleased that everything was in focus.
This photo stood out. The dappled, gray clouds seemed to frame the old airplane, and the late afternoon sun reflected off the underside of its fuselage. In a way, it looks like the plane is on fire, but I’m sure it landed safely.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2024
Behold Beautiful Hawaii!
There’s a lot to like about Hawaii: the views, the surf, the coral-blue ocean, the wildlife, the food, the quietness, the history, and the cultures. Each is wondrous to behold.
On a recent vacation there, my wife and I learned that the people of Hawaii make all of those incredible features sparkle all the more. They are a gracious amalgamation of Polynesians, warm, welcoming, and immediately inclusive.
We were among a relatively small group of travelers. None of the 13 senior citizen travelers had met before, but that made no difference to the guides and bus drivers who showed us the beautiful Oahu, Kona, and Maui islands.
Three of our able and knowledgable bus drivers.
Each one, independent of the other, welcomed us as family. We weren’t tourists. We were cousins. That’s what they called us, and they treated us with the utmost respect, which quickly earned them ours. It set the tone for the entire 10-day trip.
Why would they do this? Native Hawaiians and those who embrace Hawaiian culture understand that we are all connected to each other and to the beautiful world around us.
They know the fragility of life and try to live each day to the full. Hawaiians realize they need one another and us to survive and thrive. It’s in their DNA to do so. Consequently, we felt welcome everywhere we went and by everyone we met.
Each guide and driver shared similar stories, not from a script but from their personal lives and hearts. The drivers took us through areas not on the scheduled itinerary, and in some cases, we passed through their neighborhoods.
They wanted us to experience what they experience daily. When we stopped in small towns, they told us their favorite places to eat and where the best ocean views were and gave us recommendations for shopping.
They made stops where they knew the owners and where we would experience authentic Hawaiian food, art, and history. Each guide and driver was proud of their history and culture of inclusion and respect for all, their ancestors, and Creation itself.
Polynesians arrived in waves to the Hawaiian Islands from all over the Pacific Ocean, searching for a better life. They didn’t find one but instead made a good life by respecting their differences and embracing their similarities. That tradition continues today.
All of our tour guides shared from their personal lives. They volunteered how they survived the high cost of living in such a paradise as Hawaii.
Individualism isn’t their thing. Community, centering on family, is. Many live communally in households of multiple generations to share the living costs. In one instance, our driver showed us a poorly maintained home on the exterior and asked us to guess the price of the old bungalow. The answer was $1.1 million. The house had two bathrooms and four bedrooms, one family per bedroom.
Hawaiians work hard to enhance their community, no matter which island you are on. They work two, three, or four jobs to make ends meet. They pool their earnings, their joys, their sorrows. Yet, they somehow still keep family central.
The crime rate in Hawaii is low compared to other states. Indeed, we seldom heard sirens blaring, even in congested Honolulu, our first stop. Little graffiti or trash was seen, reflecting their unified regard for nature and the lovely land on which they live.
Hawaiians fully understand the natural course of evolution. With each volcanic erruption, their ancient islands continue to grow, sometimes at the peril of residents who inhabit this magical paradise as the roiling lava flows to the sea.
The state of Hawaii consists of 132 islands. Many smaller islands, and even some larger ones, are owned by wealthy individuals, a conglomerate of partners, or corporations. Most islands are uninhabited, mainly because they lack drinking water. That’s especially true if the island is situated where rain is scarce.
The windward and leeward portions of each island we visited were prominent. Where the tropical rains fell regularly, sometimes daily, life thrived. Green was ubiquitous in all shades and shapes. On the leeward sides, trees were fewer and shorter, and vegetation was more sparse.
I will attempt to share the beauty and spirit of our Hawaiian vacation in subsequent posts. I admired how the Hawaiian values reflected the Advent lessons of Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love as we experienced them.
My wife and I, both in our 70s, were most grateful to experience this tropical nirvana and its amazing, humble people. I hope you enjoy the upcoming series that shares more details about our trip.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2024
Sunrises, Sunsets!
These recent Shenandoah Valley sunrises and sunsets were too beautiful not to share with you, especially on gray, chilly December days.
This glowing sunset on December 2 included a sun pillar. The setting sun’s rays backlit the virga that appeared around the sun pillar.
I rose early enough on my birthday to capture the tale end of a lovely sunrise from the backyard. Red in the morning, sailors take warning proved true. Low rain clouds moved in and blessed us with some much-needed precipitation.
We didn’t get much, but every little bit helps.
The soft pastel sunset on December 4 added to my happy birthday.
In contrast, the December 7 sunset was explosive. As sunsets want to do, the colors transformed minute-by-minute as I changed locations to photograph the gorgeous scenes. This photo was taken from a roadside near my home.
Only six minutes later, the sky had transitioned to bright orange and scalloped grays over a local landmark: Mole Hill, a long-dormant volcanic core.
As I drove farther west, the sun sank behind the old, folded Appalachian Mountains. Still, earth and sky combined to provide photographic offerings.
Finally, it was time to head home, basking in the satisfaction of a marvelous sunset.
The following day, I woke in time to catch the last of a glorious dawn. A high hill blocked our view to the east, so I had to rely on peeking out a window to see what the sky had to offer. A friend who lives on a hill facing east posted the full sunrise on social media, replicating the previous night’s sunset beauty. So, I had to be happy with my backyard shot.
That’s how we live each day. We embrace whatever we discover, capture its essence, and share the blessing with all we meet.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2024
Happy Thanksgiving!
© Bruce Stambaugh 2024
Light into Darkness
When I walked into the old farmhouse, the tour guide went right. My head, however, looked left, drawn by the stark contrast of the bright morning light shining into the dark kitchen of this century-old farmhouse.
Paula, our 78-year-old guide, worked in the home and on the farm as a child.
Our guide lived and worked in this home, starting at age four. We couldn’t have had a more authentic authority on how this former family coffee farm operated.
Today, Hawaii’s Kona Historical Society welcomes visitors via reservations to explore the Kona Coffee Living History Farm on Hawaii’s Big Island firsthand. Everything is as it was when Paula began helping around the house and on the farm.
I’ll share additional photos from the farm in a future post as I begin a series on a recent trip to Hawaii, our nation’s 50th state.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2024
Shenandoah National Park: Before and After the Peak Leaf Colors
Fall is a great time to hike, bird, and shoot photos. Shenandoah National Park is my go-to place to combine all three hobbies in one trip.
However, I have learned to avoid the peak color time due to crowds. People from around the world visit the park to admire its autumn glory, which means traffic is also at its peak on the iconic Skyline Drive.
By mid-morning, lines of vehicles form at entrance stations. Overlook parking spaces fill up quickly, forcing people to park along the busy roadway. The same is true for trailhead parking lots.
Before the peak of leaf colors.
So, I chose to catch the leaf colors before and after the peak. The park is still busy, but it is tolerable, and I am satisfied with a stirring hike filled with picturesque views, unexpected wildlife, and migrating birds.
In the mountains, altitude affects the coloring as much as sunshine, cooler nighttime temperatures, and morning frosts. So, the trees might be dull or even bare at the hike’s beginning, and a half mile down the trail, a blaze of color brightens the way.
After the peak. Please click on the photos to enlarge them.
Though I have missed the height of the turning leaves, I enjoy the before-and-after with equal zeal. It’s fun to note the differences I discover and meet friendly folks along the way. The park’s beauty has energized them, too.
Besides, I admired nature’s colorful summit in other locales in Virginia’s lovely Shenandoah Valley. It is the perfect place to enjoy hiking, birding, and photography all in one joyous day trip.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2024
The Farmsteads of Gettysburg
Earlier this fall, my wife and I visited Gettysburg National Military Park with friends from Australia. We used the National Park Service’s free self-guided app to tour the sacred grounds at this tipping point of the American Civil War.
Interestingly, our Auzzie friends were most taken by the 1,300 monuments on the battlefields and beyond. On the other hand, I was amazed at the number of farmsteads overrun by Union and Confederate troops, and often both, as the battles raged. The Park Service has done a magnificent job of restoring them, and that restoration continues today.
Many of the farms where the fighting took place were small by today’s standards, often 50-80 acres. Of course, the buildings from other farms have long disappeared.
The McPherson Farm
Tree angles of the Trostle farm.
The Sherfy farm on Emmitsburg Road. The 50-acre farm included the Peach Orchard, Big and Little Round Top, and Devil’s Den. The original barn burned during the battle.
The Eisenhower farms on the southwestern edge of the battlefields.
Time did not permit me to explore the history of each farm in-depth, but that’s another reason to return to this hallowed ground.
© Bruce Stambaugh 2024
Roadkill Crossing 
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