Okay, correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't I the guy who days, weeks and months ago was displaying maximum piss and moan posturing over the issue of wet, wet, oh so wet. Moths, moths, oh my god more moths. Soooo much weed whacking to do. A faded memory friends, like a blind date quarantined. Like a fantasy money making scheme turned bogus in so many ways that your mind goes blank and you have a moment of satori instead. Like the creepy uncle who requires a constant supply of breath mints rolling around his mouth to produce enough saliva to speak. We have now segued into clear skies most of the day, summer heat rising like a clarion call to circadian siesta's and the surly and self consciously annoying "idiot" wind. I say self consciously because to some farmers, the elements are living, conscious Beings, for whom periods of time in which one or the others are withheld requires the sacrifice of all sense of resistance as well as the occasional goat or small child. Battling the elements ? Be prepared to lose. Prayer helps, maybe. Placebo effect, apply here. The other thing is the sure and certain knowledge gained from seeing and feeling the patterns arise and recede which, far from giving us a sense of control keeps us on our toes, plugging holes in the bucket and putting out fires as time instructs with a gentle humor and deadly seriousness. So now, the moisture is being sucked out of the ground and out of the plants and out of my skin like the vampire cousin of a cool damp  breeze and all I can do is try to rediscover the hoses tangled in the glycine and lost in the winter green bomb so that I can watch for flowering in the orchard and give 'em a good soaking.  And as the sun perches high above and moves slowly to the west one senses the need to make friends with Fire and surrender to its galvanizing effect. Its approaching sunset time at the Rancho and as I sit here looking out on an oceanscape painted with Kahoolawe, Molokini, Lanai, Molokai and west Maui I can't help but wonder if the sun will dip below the cloud shelf spanning the horizon and make it unimpeded to the oceans rest, producing the rare and always spectacular lingering underglow. There are already "religious" rays cutting through the random cluster of clouds directing the photon traffic in ways unimagined by grandpa sun as he giggles out light. A golden glow and grey bottomed clouds tipped in white foreshadow the "dip". Now the golden cloud liner begins to highlight the borders left and right as mother earth turns her back on grandpa sun for another day, as if to say "show me what ya got grandfather. Haven't seen an A+ in many a moon and this one has potential." I'm kvelling. In full regalia, dipping beneath the awestruck cloud shelf and warming its belly, the ninety three million mile glow has no need to sing its own glory. Its already a strong B and the underglow has yet to get lit. Whats exciting is that i can still see the horizon which could produce the trifecta of all sunset moments i.e. Religious rays, linering Underglow and clear splashdown with (dare we even think it) a green flash. OMG........ The glow is kicking in. One or two Religious rays carving a golden path under the cloudshelf which is beginning  to resemble some kind of organic space ship with claws and pads hanging down and wings and tailfin. There's a trail of particularly bright cloud resembling the exhaust trail coming out the bottom of said morphing cloudship. Alas, and once again, my disappointment could not be more complete as the sun had to pass behind a cloud bridge spanning Lanai and west maui, and upon emerging fell almost immediately behind  the dreaded wall o' cloud hugging the horizon and eliminating all but the "religious" rays component of our complex and accurate unto itself rating system. So as we approach the salmon/grey spectacle know as the "wall street suit", another potential A plus will now rank among the B minus's which, if they could speak would say, " I will tease and tease and tease to show that you are spoiled, if you please , to think that any sunset viewed while sitting on your toochis, sipping and dipping when even now as the stars twinkle and the grey goes charcoal your ranking leaves the elements rolling in the aisles. Satisfied? We have a pair of flashwwoofs approaching escape velocity and they will be missed. Friend of the farm and five time wwoofer, Justin Williams has carved out a spot for himself any old time he wants. I have the feeling that he has reached a tipping point and is now reasonably convinced that Maui is the place for him. Why not, he's hunkish, crazy smart, has work that travels, is open to any vices and has a jaw that can buss open coconuts. Thanks man. Then there is nurse Lara. While on a mission to incorporate an understanding of things Permaculture, ms. Farina is also ferreting away bits of information designed to enhance her vision of a world in which the rights of woman and children and  the issue of climate change are understood in such a way as to catalyse an awareness while developing ways of getting the word out to a world sorely in need of hearing. But really, she's being led about by the ebb and flow of her life's desire which will now be forged in the fiery cold of the Saturn return. Next week she returns to the serenity of the Marshall Islands where her good works are already chronicled in the Akashic Record. One need not wish her luck as luck seeks her out. Thanks my friend. Lastly and at long last, the lower pond is up and flowing with a small measure of glorious. Another one of those cycles. Another excuse to be grateful for being able to cobble together a piece of the puzzle and watch as it snaps right into place. Can I get a BOOYA? It will be home to the mighty Tilopia and provide food, fun and serenity second to none. The more you show, the more we'll grow. Peace, Jp .