A gentle breeze ruffled the trees by Arnott’s Lodge on the big island of Hawaii. Ginny was shading from the midday sun, reading a brochure. On offer was a trip to see lava pour into the sea. The trip promised to let visitors see land being born and it fascinated her.
The receptionist at Arnott’s Lodge described the walk as a piece of cake. A ranger would drive the group to the lava flow, then after only four hours walking on flat terrain, they would arrive at the spot where the lava flowed down and emptied itself into the Pacific Ocean. All that was needed were walking shoes, a stick, and two litres of water.
Ginny decided that this would be wonderful inspiration for her next series of paintings and signed up for the next trip.
Early the next morning the party set off led by a rugged young American ranger. The group consisted of two young State-side women, eager to impress the ranger, a quick, slick Jewish New Yorker who was ready to be the hero of this quest, a quiet English couple, dressed in the strong steady boots of the serious walker, and Ginny, an Australian, twice the age of any in the party.
Glowing accounts of lava bubbling forth and new earth being born spurred the party forward. Across razor sharp black glass they travelled. The heat was intense. It was like being in an oven. The party drifted ahead of Ginny, who was being extra cautious. She had been warned by the ranger not to step on whirl shaped glass, as it could collapse and she would be cast into the belly of the flow. He had uttered this warning whilst she was standing on a whirl.
Fear pushed her forward and she vowed that she would never attempt anything like this again.
She thought of the ancient Hawaiians and how they would view this modern day adventure. Things must be a little crazy for adults to attempt such a journey and pay for the privilege of walking through Hell. The Hawaiians would only cross this flow in extreme emergency.
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Ginny was aware that she slowed the group down, but she could not see the point of rushing
across the blackened glass without taking in the amazing surreal landscape in all its tortured beauty.
Finally, they came to the place where the earth was bubbling up, like a pudding on a stove. They all stuck their sticks into the red bubbles, and instantly the sticks ignited. Some of the group wanted to stay until sunset to appreciate the red glow that would engulf them at nightfall. They would cross back over the broken field of glass by torchlight.
Ginny reasoned with them and as everyone was low on water her wish was granted and they decided to head back.
Two hours into this intrepid journey the ranger had told them that often Pele,
the goddess of the volcano would cause one of the party to have an accident.
One would fall prey to the wrath of the volcano and so pay the price for this adventure.
Thus when one of the young women slipped and her lower leg ripped open, the ranger told the group to head back quickly and he would slowly bring back the wounded one.
Truth be told it was Ginny who led the party home, virtually skipping over the lava field. Very sure footed was she on the way back, joyous with every step. She was so glad to be rid of this trial by fire. Everyone’s strength had been shaken by the accident. They had figured that if anyone would fall prey to Pele it would be Ginny. Ginny would fall prey to her fear.
How were they to know that Ginny had made the traditional sacrifice of fruit and flowers to the goddess Pele when she first landed on the big island?
Returning to the safety of the road the group gathered to watch the sunset. Without the aid of the sun, the black glass turned to red, a ribbon of red flowing down to the sea.
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