Olivine - The Adventures of Hercule Peridot

Yes, it’s me, Adamas Bontemps; gemologist, world traveler, and dedicated student of the art and science of deduction.

Peridot and I had returned home from Florence a few weeks earlier. I was back to my early morning activities; chronicling our travels, and practicing guitar. Out the corner of my eye, a FaceTime notification appeared on my computer screen.

I clicked “accept” and an image of that familiar turquoise door materialized, [Incoming video from 1740 Tsavorite Lane]. It was Peridot.

Magically, as the door opened Peridot popped onto my computer screen. He was impeccably dressed; a fine silk vest, and dashing purple necktie. His lean, congenial, smiling face radiating from my screen.

Olivine Crystal in Matrix

“Bontemps, this blog that you insist on posting has stirred my curiosity, and sentiments of my deceased, loving, wife, Olivine.”

“How do you mean?” I asked.

“I’m thinking we need some time away from the case, say, a little vacation. Some time to relax, and reminisce.

He pulled a leather bound book from his library, flipped it open, and read the following; “Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.” - John Muir

With his yellowish green eyes looking up in an Angelic state he whispered, “You see Adamas to live a balanced life one must take time to just “Be”.

Peridot always reminded me that the science of deduction included time to experience nature.

“Bien, what are you proposing?”

“Hawaii, my boy. The big Island. This year, would have been our our 30th anniversary. Olivine and I visited the Island of Hawaii, on our honey moon years ago - a very special place.”

I immediately Googled Hawaii, “This is incroyable.”

“Did you know one can travel through ten of the world’s 14 different climate zones on Hawaii ranging from Wet Tropical to Polar Tundra.”

Says here, “A result of the shielding effect and elevations of the massive volcanoes Maunakea and Maunaloa. The big island is nearly twice as big as all of the other Hawaiian Islands combined.”

Peridot calmly held up his hand to stop me from rambling. “To be specific, Adamas, we will explore Green Sand Beach, the Hawaiian name Papakolea.”

He took a sip of his coffee, dabbed his mustache with a napkin, cleared his throat and began;

“A truly magnificent place, the green sand gets it’s color from tiny olivine crystals (commonly known as Peridot) created from eruptions to a dormant volcano. Nestled in Mahana Bay, one of only two green sand beaches in the world. In fact, green sand beach itself is within what was once a cinder cone. Three sides of the cone are still present, with the ocean coming in from what would have been the eastern edge.”

“Sounds exciting. I said.”

“I’ve hired a guide to escort us to Papakolea.”

“Pack your bags, my boy, we leave tomorrow.”

To be continued . . .

(Stories in chronological order, click here.)

Comments

The Language of Home: Building a Sanctuary

This episode is for anyone trying to find their footing in a new place—whether it’s a new city, a new job, or a new country. The light in Florence, Italy, has a way of making everything feel like a Renaissance painting—the golden hue on the stone, the steady rhythm of the Arno River, and the feeling that you are walking through a history much larger than yourself. I was there to give a presentation to a class of Gemology students. I was prepared to discuss color grading and refractive indices, but not to be outed as a language tutor . Feeling very much like a guest in a storied land, a hand shot up enthusiastically. "You’re the guy on the podcasts," the young woman said, her eyes bright with recognition. "You’re the one teaching us English." I laughed nervously. If you know my flat Midwestern accent, you know the irony here. I am hardly an Oxford professor. But later, as I wandered the cobblestone streets beneath the shadow of the Duomo, the humor faded into a powe...

Practiced Hands: The 50-Year Warranty

What Doc Burch Taught Me About Staying Active. We talk a lot about "life hacks" these days, but most of them don’t have a very long shelf life. Usually, they’re forgotten by the next app update. But back in 1972, I received a piece of advice that came with a 50-year warranty. It’s the reason I’m still on my bike today, still chasing a golf ball around Carlsbad, and still—mostly—in one piece. The Kick That Changed Everything It started with a literal kick in the pants. A kid at school in Cuba, Illinois, was joking around and caught me just right. By the next morning, my lower back was screaming. My mom didn’t reach for the Tylenol; she reached for her car keys. "Let’s go see Doc Burch," she said. "He’ll fix you right up." Harry E. Burch, D.C., was a fixture in Lewistown. He’d graduated from Palmer College in ’59 and had been our family’s go-to for years. He was a man of practiced hands and steady eyes. After a quick exam and an X-ray, the mood in the room s...

Chasing 70

In this episode, Chasing 70: A Respectful Negotiation with Gravity They say golf is a game of misses. If that’s true, my first round of the year at Rancho Carlsbad was a masterclass in missing efficiently . After a four-month hiatus—during which my golf clubs quietly evolved into a self-sustaining garage ecosystem—Lori and I returned to our local par-three proving ground. Rancho Carlsbad is a par-54, just 1,983 yards long. That sounds forgiving until it exposes every weakness you’ve been politely ignoring during the off-season. I finished with a 78. In most contexts, 78 is respectable. On a par-54, it means I spent a fair amount of time “getting my steps in.” But here’s the real motivation: I turn 70 this August. As a core principle of my Great Un-Working Lifestyle, I’m putting it in writing: I want to shoot my age by my birthday. The Bald-Headed Man Course Around here, we have a nickname for Rancho Carlsbad. We call it the Bald-Headed Man Course. First, because there are no woods...

The Miller Effect

In this episode - The Miller Effect . . . The sun hung high in the sky, casting shadows across the desolate landscape of Huron, California. Dr. Vo, a brilliant yet witty electrical engineer, stood before the main breaker box of a massive 1.4 MW-DC solar array that had confounded everyone who had dared to diagnose its persistent issue. It had been six long months of head-scratching and ten failed attempts by others before the desperate call came into Dr. Vo's office. As the sun's rays bathed the vast array in an orange glow, Dr. Vo stepped up to the Main breaker box, his sharp eyes shaded by his green Cenergy cap. He wore his North Face jacket that billowed in the light breeze, and his presence exuded an air of mystery and intrigue that was as pervasive as the problem at hand. The solar array was a colossal assemblage of panels, wires, and inverters, but the main breaker kept tripping, sending the entire operation into chaos. The workers at the site were on edge, muttering, “We’...

On The Fly

Search This Blog