The Enduring Cycle of Puna

Part IV: The Enduring Cycle of Puna

To stand in Lava Tree State Monument is to stand at the intersection of past and present, destruction and creation. The stone trees are more than just a geological curiosity. They are a profound lesson in the nature of Hawaiʻi itself. They teach us that the land is not static, but a living, breathing entity in a constant state of flux. This understanding is not new. It is an ancient wisdom, encoded in the chants and stories of Pele, that continues to provide a framework for life and resilience in Puna today.

Creation from Destruction: The Two-Sided Nature of Pele

In Hawaiian tradition, the volcano goddess Pele is a figure of immense duality. She is Ka wahine ʻai honua—the woman who devours the earth—a destructive force whose fiery lava flows consume everything in their path. Yet, she is also the ultimate creator, the mother of new land, giving birth to the very islands upon which life flourishes. This two-sided nature is the essence of the volcanic cycle.

The chants dedicated to Pele capture this duality perfectly. They speak of her journey from Kahiki, a creative act of carving the islands from the sea. They also describe her power and fury, the rumbling and muttering of an eruption that consumes the district of Puna, her beauty rising in fiery fountains over the cliffs. One chant, "Aia lā ʻo Pele," asks a poignant question amidst this turmoil: "Where will we find peace?" The cryptic answer—"On the great billows we love"—suggests that peace is found not by avoiding the chaos, but by learning to live in balance with it, to dance on the moving earth.

This philosophy is written across the landscape. The 1790 eruption destroyed a vibrant ʻōhiʻa forest, a devastating loss. But from that destruction, it created the hauntingly beautiful and unique monument we see today. The 2018 eruption destroyed over 700 homes and erased beloved landmarks, a modern tragedy. But from that destruction, it created nearly 900 acres of new ʻāina, fresh land upon which life will one day take hold. The monument and the new coastline are two sides of the same coin, physical manifestations of Pele's dual role as both destroyer and creator.

The Resilient Spirit of Puna

This ancient philosophy of adaptation and resilience is not just a relic of the past. It is a living force within the modern Puna community. You can see it, feel it, and taste it every Sunday at the Makuʻu Farmers Market. Located on the highway between Keaʻau and Pāhoa, this is far more than a place to buy produce. With over 150 vendors, live music, and thousands of visitors, it is the vibrant, beating heart of the community.

It is a place of economic self-sufficiency and, most importantly, a place where the spirit of ʻohana (family) is palpable. The market is intentionally ʻohana-based, fostering deep relationships and loyalty among its vendors and the community it serves. It is a weekly celebration of survival and continuity.

You can also see this resilience in the local art scene. At galleries like the Puna Gallery and Gift Emporium in Pāhoa, local artists display works that process and memorialize the ever-changing landscape. There are paintings that serve as a "reminder of all the good times" at places like the warm ponds, now lost forever under a sheet of black rock. This is not just art. It is a community actively creating meaning, beauty, and memory from its collective experience of loss and change.

A Monument to Impermanence and Resilience

A final walk along the loop trail at Lava Tree State Monument brings the story full circle. The initial impression of a static, ghostly forest gives way to a deeper understanding. These stone trees are not dead relics. They are dynamic symbols of a powerful truth. They teach a profound lesson in impermanence—that the land we stand on is temporary, always subject to the creative and destructive whims of the volcano.

But they also teach a lesson of incredible resilience. Look closely at the porous, black rock. Life is already reclaiming it. Mosses and lichens paint the surfaces in shades of green and gold. Ferns sprout from the cracks. And, most powerfully, new ʻōhiʻa trees can be seen growing from the hollowed-out tops of the lava molds, life literally emerging from the shell of death.

This is the ultimate story of the monument, and the ultimate story of Puna. It is a testament to the idea that even in the face of overwhelming destruction, life finds a way. The forest grows back. The community gathers, rebuilds, and creates. The spirit of the land, and of its people, endures. The lava trees stand not as tombstones for a forest that was lost, but as beacons of hope for the life that will always, inevitably, return.