Vacationing in Hawai’i appears like such a straight line to amazing leisure, yet the roads can be so twisty. Such is the steep learning curve while living on or visiting these islands. Big Island Hawai’i is volcano-forming mountainous lands that require thoughtful driving. True leisure for leisure’s sake, the healthy respite for rejuvenating your life, yes, and then following as nature recites. Simply listen. We strive to live here in service to the aina (land).

Going to Laupahoehoe campground challenges the journey in the descent, a winding road to the valley, where one mistaken turn would easily tumble your car down the steep ocean cliff. Take your time and most of all leave the majestic wind, palm trees, ocean boulders, and gifting sunshine as you found them. The aloha spirit has this connotation to arrive and depart aligned with people and place, leaving minimal carbon footprint.

Camping on Big Island gives the best chance to do so. Mind you, pool side at a resort can reset the inner clock, that mainland time-machine to be productive and to ace that to-do list. And still the wind, sun, and ocean will reach you inside or outside the hotel room, then again staying way outdoors camping opens the conversation even wider as to how you meet and greet Hawaiian nature.

My 11-year-old son has spring break this week, so Mama gets to set up camp at Laupahoehoe, while he spends a few nights with friends. On the mountain drive down, I stopped halfway on a short one-mile pitch forward. The creek, and sometimes gushing river when rains fall heavy, and now dry rocks, are intriguing to view under the one-lane dilapidated bridge. Plants are thriving as they crevice their way through the river-bed stone. After looking down, I consider the upward view. I take my time to survey the burgeoning tropical forest canopy. Insects zap my skin and swaying palm fronds make that soft rustling sound. After a while, driving energy resumes and onward then or time to take the path less traveled.

One dynamic that happens when not choosing the hotel resort and, perhaps, leaving one hard-shelled suitcase behind to instead pack a tent, is the surprise discovery of Hawaiian homes. In the tropics, we have dwellings that are not derivative of extreme wealth as in exuberant mansions. These Other homes, and we have so many on island, are fascinating. Necessity is the mother of invention, which is another way to say we also have significant poverty on Big Island.

And that is the twisty part of the learning curve to recognize that in a Hawaiian culture where living in warm sunshine, mostly, since strong winds and torrential rains happen, necessitates enough is enough habitats. A hike through the tropical forest in companionable company, does not require a mansion. Starting to proselytize so will shift to simply say that most who live here are in tune with happy times spent outdoors. Priorities.

Driving the back roads on Big Island will show you these diverse dwellings. They suffice in loving ways. On the road to Laupahoehoe, I detect many, including a Buddhist Sangha, tucked away from the driving road, nestled inside surrounding trees, bushes, and plants of every hue. Some island peoples are tending the upkeep as the exterior seems freshly painted and the surrounding aina blooming in tropical colors: vibrant red, brilliant green, smiley yellow, and a hundred other shades of paying-attention.

When I first learned how to use a computer, the Macintosh, when I was 18 years old, freshman year in college (possibly a few decades ago), the acronym WYSIWYG helped tremendously. Techie has never been my middle name. (Even if hope springs eternal.) And the phrase is What You See Is What You Get. Apple built an empire on the reassuring thought that the desktop was as it seemed. Click on an icon and that will bring results as to what the icon visually signifies. What You See Is What You Get.

In Hawai’i, WYSIWYG does not apply, for the most part. The experience is not on the surface desktop. We have a 360-degree sensory bonanza as in surround sound, taste, touch, smell, and feel experiencing. Go radical and close the computer (or any screen), pick up a leaf, and place a piece of paper on top, then run a pencil over lightly. Watch the tracings turn intricate. Maybe sit alongside your keiki or grandparent or friend—all the ohana (family) can participate. The leaf will be on the ground already and so you can return her where she was found to go back home again to the aina.