‘Do you think I could fly off this bridge, Forrest?’
~Jenny Curran in the motion picture Forrest Gump.
The windward Hamakua Coast of the Big Island near Hilo gets abundant rainfall and houses lush forest with serene waterfalls. One could catch a glimpse of several such waterfalls from the scenic Highway 19 (Hilo – Honoka'a beltway). The most pretty of them – if you ask me – is the Nanue Falls on the Nanue stream. 18 miles north of Hilo, a small depression-era bridge – appearing quite depressed itself with its slick sidewalk and lichen covered railings – spans the stream. The stream itself is hidden by a blush of green that is punctuated in the Spring by fiery red flowers of the African Tulip – an invasive implant from Africa. The waterfall is visible from the bridge as a distant siren that beckons, but inaudibly. The sidewalk on the bridge is barely two feet wide and feels utterly inadequate when cars zoom past at 55+ mph a few inches away shaking the rusty bridge in their wake. Setting up a tripod there and shooting from that ledge of sanity is remarkably insane. People have come to this bridge and tried to fly off. This is not a place to mess with. But if crazy was easy and destiny was all preordained, the world would be tremendously boring, isn’t it?
Earlier in the day, we had driven past this bridge and the viewpoint had paradoxically whispered ‘sunset’ to me. That was odd, because this view faces east and sunrise here must be smeared with buttery light reflected in equal parts from the sky and the ocean on the other side of the bridge. But the cloudy day and some subconscious instinct insisted that I drag back my glut-yard there when the sun goes down. Hence, around sunset, we drove back from the Volcano district ‘up’ in the South, barely making it in time due to the Hilo traffic. After parking at a tiny pullout at the end of the bridge, Rishabh and I walked/skipped/jogged to the spot with minimum equipment and set up the tripod gingerly; two legs on the sidewalk, one on the railing. Soon I realized, we had a few problems. One, the light on the vegetation needed polarizing, but my polarizer was in the car. Two, the ambient light was low and exposure needed more time on that shaky bridge than the home-bound evening traffic was willing to allow. And third, the cloudy light was threating a dark mutiny and fading fast.
‘Run dad, run!’ Rishabh hasn’t seen Forrest Gump yet, but few sentiments, I suppose, are digitized in our DNA. I ran to get the polarizer. On my return, I realized a fourth problem had introduced itself to the scene. The ocean behind us had churned up a gale that ran into the lush vista with Forrest Gump’s persistence. At this point, honestly, I was visibly despondent. Hoping for a miracle and cursing destiny, I kept shooting. Most exposures were ruined by cars. Some were inadequate due to excessive wind-blur in the vegetation. Only one, the one above, seemed normal.
‘What's normal anyways?' Quite likely, some questions are also imprinted in our DNA. Like Forrest, I too don't know if "we have a destiny, or if we're all just floatin' around accidental-like on a breeze, but I, I think maybe it's both."
And, "That's about all I got to say 'bout that."
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