One of the simple pleasures of life lately has been keeping the windows open.
My favorite place to do this on Kamehameha Highway, especially at night, when I’m driving right next to the ocean. The salty air blows in the car, whips my hair in my face, sometimes messes up my contacts. It’s always worth it.
This has to be one of America’s most breathtaking drives. In the daytime, I regularly rubberneck to check out the white sand beaches, making mental notes of where to stop one day. Only a rocky ridge separates the car from a 5-foot drop-off into the ocean. Precision and concentration is key, but as with so many drives here, it almost feels like a crime to not pay respects to the scenery. At night, I can let that go and just enjoy the black expanse and its mysterious wind.
We talk a fair bit in Minnesota about hygge, the Danish practice of coziness. At this time of year in Minnesota, hygge would mean bundling up in long underwear, sipping tea, and watching the snowflakes fall. Oddly enough, I feel hygge here in Hawaii, in my teensy dorm room, when I keep my window open and allow the breeze to roll in. I love hearing the quiet rumble of the ocean and the trade winds shake the palm tree leaves. It is like a soothing balm, or a soft song, or a warm candle. This makes Hawaii feel like home.