Pass it on, pass it on...

I am so enamored of flowers; at home we always have vases of them all over the house. So when I learned that one of the businesses in Hana was the tropical flower supply business I couldn't wait to visit a farm and buy armloads of ginger blooms, sexy pinks and parrot beaks, to enjoy even for just a few days in the vacation rental.

Except all the farms were...not everywhere as I'd imagined. We asked around in town and at banana bread stands until we got a location - Hana Tropicals.

We drove up a long, muddy drive and parked under a banyan tree in front of a warehouse and barn. There was no one around. We ventured up some stairs to the empty warehouse, evidence of packing and shipping flowers all around. Music played in the background and silver streamers hung high over rows of growing orchids to detract birds flipped in the breeze. A few chickens pecked at hollow papaya shells on the ground. It was eerie, uninhabited and we crept around, feeling like we might be trespassing, looking for someone but saw not a soul. So we left.

We got in the Jeep and started to drive out when a hippy chick with no bra, a hula hoop and a knitted wool ear warmer for a headband came out of some woods followed by a silent, older man. "Hey guys, what's up?" She asked easily, hopefully. We told we wanted to buy some flowers, not to ship anywhere, just to have in our vacation rental. "I can cut you some flowers," she said.

We parked again and followed her back to to warehouse and the flower fields beyond where it was now starting to pour. She grabbed a scythe and flopped in her too-long, sopping wet pants and barefeet out to the fields where we lost track of her until about 15 minutes later when she retuned with this bouquet you see above. She wrapped it up and just before handing it to me said hang on and went inside then came back out with a guava. "I picked some today, have one."

I took both flowers and fruit and asked, "What do I owe you?" as I pulled out my wallet. She looked embarrassed and balked, waving me away with her hand, "Oh nothing!"

"Really? No, we'll pay for the flowers."

"No, no - you guys just enjoy, yeah?"

"Thank you so much, we'll really enjoy these."

"No worries, guys. Pass it on, pass it on," she said meaning the good will, karma, kindness.

Today, we passed her and a friend hitchhiking on the highway, trying to get to a drumming festival. I flew past them, then realized who it was. Pass it on, pass it on. I turned around, picked them up and helped them a little closer to "vibing out" at their gathering.