Aloha. Here's your chicken.

The thing they don't tell you about Hawaii, or at least about Maui, is that you will be greeted by Hei Hei at the car rental office. I'm sure most people are expecting a lei, if anything, but I think I can practically guarantee chickens in the first thirty minutes.

If you drive to Hana and pull off at an arbitrary trailhead parking lot: chicken.

Made plans to just go chill on the beach and just enjoy the surf and sand? Chickens beat you to it.

You can find a nice place to view the sunset from an upland roadside pull off next to the very not accessible road of O and company is guaranteed.

Aside from the threats of cars, mongoose, and the vigilant waiter with a broom, they've pretty much got the run of the place.

This is subtle way of saying we just got back from ten days in a tropical isle, my first warm weather in winter escape ever, courtesy of my awesome mom (pictured above) and, even though spring semester starts tomorrow, I'm really hoping to post all these photos of plants, animals, waves and sunsets out here before I start drowning in homework. Wish me luck!

Back on the blog

Not sure how long this will last, but there was a nice trip to southern Utah worth noting on something other than a tiny Insta-screen, so I'll give it a shot. Work, school and life continue to keep me away from this page, in a good way, but if I can find a lull, I'll revisit the hoodoos and their magical homes in the next few weeks.

The desert, day two

A good day starts with the arrival of that lovely, orange orb on the horizon that lends your surroundings a warm glow.

Including the enormous, phallic rock just across the way. They call it "Chimney Rock" on the map, but I came up with a few alternatives...

Today's walk took us deeper into the land.The approach was flat, but soon the walls rose up and we went down to see what the gulch was hiding.

It's pointless to try to communicate the scale of the canyons. I was humbled.

The arches are still emerging from the stone, changing both overnight and over the millennia.

The standard shades of red are punctuated with fall's gold and other hues encouraged by the sun.

In spite of its name, we spotted no coyote in the gulch, but did enjoy watching a flock of crows dissecting the kitchen trash and other assorted belongings of some unwise campers (got to learn somehow). Mostly it was quiet and peaceful and a partially successful antidote for the chaos in the world at large.

On the way back out, we stumbled upon a flock of chukars (no photos, they're quick to gather the kids and flee) and got to examine a few mineral oddities.

Jesse educated me about the moqui marbles (top), but we have yet to find an adequate explanation for the almost-perfect circles. Some mysteries, the desert gets to keep.

Days like these wind down under the stars, just as they should.

The desert, day one

Looking out my window right now, the colors on the landscape are anything but red and we are definitely past shorts-weather. I'm thinking back to days when red dust followed me everywhere and sunblock was mandatory.

Every good trip starts off with a climb out of the tent to view the sunrise and see just where you ended up when you pulled the car off the highway the night before. Not a bad impromptu site.

It's always a good idea to stop and check in with the district lizard to check on trail conditions and pick up your backcountry permit.

Apparently, many parts of the desert are wondrous playgrounds for grownups. Accessing them was a tiny bit harder than I'd thought and next time I'll consider a smaller pack.

Ah, but once you're in...

You don't really want to come out again.

But outside the slots, there are cactus snakes and other desert critters to stare at.

Thanks to Jesse for spotting the weird, grey mantis in his not-grey environment.

So much out there to enjoy, and that was just the first day.