A Sensory Postcard from Maui 🌴
Sun-drenched skin, tropical birdsong, and the best mai tai on the island
Yesterday morning I woke to the sun streaming through the windows, its reflection bouncing off the mirror in our bedroom just so that I had to pull the covers over my eyes to keep from being blinded. One window ajar, the sound of chirping birds drifted in the air.
Was this Hawaii or was this home?
After spending this past week in the glorious sunshine in Maui, I didn't expect to be greeted with sun upon arriving home in Portland. (You never know what to expect here this time of year.)
What a treat it was, then, to see blue sky out my window—but so different than the tropical climate of the Hawaiian islands, of course.
I wrote a few weeks ago about the rejuvenation of travel and the different perspective it brings, particularly when it comes to the environment.
Hawaii is no different.
This was my second time there, but to a different island. I first visited the Big Island of Hawaii roughly two years ago which I loved, so having heard how different the beaches are there, I was excited to compare it to Maui.
As I reflected on my vacation I kept thinking about the physical feelings I experienced. Whenever I’ve activated memories through the lens of my five senses in the past, I find it to be a unique and refreshing way to recall an experience, especially travel. Noticing any of our senses keeps us in the moment which is getting harder and harder to do these days. I think that's why I enjoy practicing the inverse.
What better place to engage all five senses than in the magical land that is Hawaii?
🥥 Taste
Maui left me throughly convinced that a tropical drink tastes better when you’re in a tropical place. As someone who doesn't normally drink many cocktails, something about sipping on a mai tai or frozen piña colada with a rum float amidst the beach backdrop had me craving those flavors. Pineapple and coconut danced on my tongue like the island’s breeze across my skin.
From the boozy drinks to a decadent slice of coconut cream pie to instantly satiating coconut shrimp, coconut was a clear favorite of the week.
I inadvertently stopped buying bananas after reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle last year. To taste them again atop the couple açaí bowls I ate was a treat, the absence of them making their taste that much sweeter.
And maybe not so pleasantly but a vivid memory nonetheless was the saltiness in and around my mouth anytime the ocean’s spray hit my face. When chefs like Samin Nostrat say to salt your pasta water like the ocean1, this is exactly what they mean—face-puckering saltiness.
🦜 Sound
This isn’t the first time I’ve mentioned birdsong. I find it a fascinating way to notice the environmental differences while traveling. I’m not necessarily listening for the birds, rather my ears can't help but detect it when the chirping is loud enough.
It was one of the first things I noticed upon waking up our first morning in Maui—so many different birds calling to one another that I opened our patio door upon getting out of bed so I could hear more of it. A symphony to accompany our morning coffee.
One day we drove up to Haleakalā National Park, the island’s dormant volcano, and did a bit of hiking there. We started with a subalpine hike in the hot sun, which felt void of living creatures until a nēnē flew out of the bushes in the distance.
We ended our day walking through the much shorter Hosmer Grove nature trail. Immediately upon approaching the area, my ears were met with an astounding array of birdsong. It was incredible, the different calls and dozens of birds I saw flying around. We took our time walking through the short trail loop, pausing at a telescope and informational sign. Here I read about the handful of different birds I was seeing, my favorite of which was the fire-engine-red ‘I’iwi, with its curved orange beak. Spotting them amongst the trees was akin to picking strawberries out of a patch—it felt like a treasure each time you got one.
Learning that these birds can't be found anywhere else on earth besides Maui (and are sadly in danger of going extinct) made the experience feel that much more special.
It was evident how different the birds felt here, in the National Park, than along the beaches and sidewalks in Kihei. They kept their distance, seemingly oblivious to humans, and felt truly “wild,” versus the domesticated birds and chickens that dared walk right up to you in the sand or food truck parking lot.
While I saw plenty of these endemic species flying by—one even came close enough to make me duck my head—I knew I wasn't going to capture any of them on camera. Instead, I instinctually got the idea to try recording a voice memo instead, because the sound is what I wanted to capture more than the sight itself. I was pleasantly surprised with how well it turned out, since I had left my phone in the car and recorded this on my Apple Watch. Did I just unlock a new way to document travel memories?
🌊 Touch
Maui brought a lot in this category, the remnants of which I can still feel two days after returning home. The dryness of my skin remains, parched from a week spent in the sun and saltwater.
Most memorable was the feeling of the warm, tropical air on my skin. I’m not sure if it was the time of year (visiting in February versus November) or the different locale (Maui versus the Big Island) but it felt a lot more humid to me this time around.
Stickiness from the residue of zinc sunscreen. Fingers prone to easy pruning. Strong wind gusts that slapped the sand against our skin. Gentle, cooling breezes that brought respite so it never felt too hot.
The sensation of submerging myself under the ocean’s water, my hair flowing around me like a majestic mermaid. I forget how much I love that feeling of going underwater. I don't do it often or for a prolonged period because I'm a contact-lens wearer (IYKYK) so these moments were short but sweet.
🌺 Smell
Perhaps surprisingly, this sense was my least activated of the trip. I had to think hard for scent memories. The first that came to mind was the coconut in the tropical cocktails, which makes sense (no pun intended) since much of our taste is accessed via smell.
Every now and then I’d catch a pleasant perfume-y whiff of flowers, likely plumeria, when the breeze hit me just right.
I can also remember the subtle pine-like scent that filled my nostrils every now and then as we traipsed through the Hosmer Grove at Haleakalā. The area is home to what they named "Alien Forest," a grove of imported tree species from across the world that blends into native shrubland. The smell struck me because it felt so familiar. While I can’t be sure which plant to attribute it to, I’m pretty certain I was smelling the remnants of the surviving conifers rather than the Hawaiian species.
🐋 Sight
Besides the obviously beautiful sunsets, I noticed a varying degree of water color and clarity across the different beaches we visited around the island. The most aquamarine of water glittered at Kaanapali Beach, while others were darker and less clear.
We spotted sea turtles at a couple beaches, first at Kalepolepo Beach across the street from our Airbnb. It had the murkiest water due to a manmade inlet created by a crescent-shaped rock wall. It took us a while to realize that several of what appeared to be rocks were actually turtles’ backs as they rested on the barricade. As we waded over to get a closer look, we counted more and more. There were at least twelve turtles scattered throughout the rock wall, a game of natural I Spy. To our delight, we even saw one across the way on the sand.
This happened a couple days later at Kapalua Bay Beach too, when I swam ashore to see a beached turtle in front of me, a woman on her towel and cell phone mere feet from it. We chuckled at the juxtaposition of the scene—seemingly desensitized to her neighbor, we wondered if she was telling whoever was on the other line that a turtle was sunbathing next to her.
My favorite nature sighting of the trip was spotting humpback whales miles away off the same beach. We'd seen them earlier in the week at a different beach, but these were much closer. Pete even saw, much to my dismay because I missed it, one of them breach the water’s surface. As our eyes tracked their movements via their fins and blowholes, the sun slowly setting while the pod swam north, I soaked in the splendor of the setting.
Like I said, Hawaii is a magical place. 😌
I hope these sense memories transport you, if even for a moment, or remind you of some of your own. If they do, I’d love to hear about them!
If you enjoyed this post, you might like these essays from the archives:
I love the format of this post, Morganne! It ~sounds~ like you had a wonderful trip 🤗 Hawaii is one of my favorite places, though I've only been to Maui once. I always think about Hawaii when I heard mourning doves. No matter where I am when I hear them, I always feel like I'm waking up in Hawaii.