We have been to Kauai before, and we know we like to stay north and out of the most densely tourist places. So after searching the internet a bit we found this small slightly funky, totally comfy house that stands alone in the midst of an organic farm just west of the tiny town of Kilauea. There is a secluded beach about a 10 minute scrabble down the hill that is accessed from a dirt road that runs between a couple of farms. The beach doesn’t seem to be on any of the maps and it’s not a great beach for surfing so no one is there. If you have been to Kauai then you know that the most common sound isn’t the crash of the waves but the roosters crow, because the island is teaming with feral chickens, along the road, in yards, parking lots and even on the beach the roosters strut and crow herding their hens who are herding their chicks from one side of the road to the other prompting that perennial question…why? We have stayed in this house for a week and I’m reminded why I like to stay in place on a vacation. You don’t see everything there is to see but you get a certain depth of a place that you don’t discover otherwise. Finding the yummy local bakery or the quiet beach, hearing the stories of the local owner of an ice cream shop we managed to visit three times in a week. We sat out on the narrow lanai that wrapped around the house for breakfast each morning and watched the clouds pushing past from the beach, and the iron wood trees swaying in the distance. Closer in the broad banana leaves waved from the edge of the farm, Myna birds mingle with Red-crested Cardinals and of course chickens on the cut grass beyond our feet. The colors here are unimaginably full. The variations on green are vast punctuated by blooms of orange and deep red. Then there is the ocean, a blue so clear and bright and true it makes you gasp. It’s wonderful to change places now and again, it renews my powers of observations, it refreshes my sense of wonder and it reminds me that I too live in a place of boundless beauty. So as my little tribe and I head home tomorrow we’ll take wonderful memories of hikes and beaches and lazy afternoons but we will also take our fresh sea scrubbed vision, and brightly polished sense of wonder and awe with us, ready to see with fresh eyes what home is.