High up in the pastures, I hear the cattle calling from underneath the mango tree.
Trade winds are blowing, blossoms are floating lazily along with the breeze.
And the Hana wind is so much sweeter than any other place I've ever known.
And Hana time is so much slower, until... it's time to go.
Tomorrow I'll be on a runway waiting for my plane to depart.
But tomorrow's a long, long time from now with the Hana wind...
blowing through my heart.
So I'll take these photographs and burn them in my memory
to help me make it through the coming year.
And when I'm overwhelmed, I'll take them out and I'll remember
until I can find my way back here.
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