Because I spent eight years of my youth in Hawaii, both as a child and as a young adult, this place still feels like home to me. I haven't lived here in nearly 40 years but, like Mark Twain, I can never forget it.
He wrote: "For me its balmy airs are always blowing, its summer seas flashing in the sun; the pulsing of its surf is in my ear; I can see its garlanded crags, its leaping cascades, its plumy palms drowsing by the shore, its remote summits floating like islands above the cloud-rack; I can feel the spirit of its woody solitudes, I hear the plashing of the brooks; in my nostrils still lives the breath of flowers that perished twenty years ago." - Mark Twain, a Biography.
He never returned. I count myself fortunate that I do, as often as I possibly can.