I know that I am not the only one who gets caught up in the tasks of daily life and forgets to enjoy the beauty around me, but thankfully sometimes people come for a visit now and then to remind me. Courtesy of my nephew Randall, I became a tour guide for the past couple of weeks, while fitting a few vital tasks in between the sightseeing.

We took a moonlight hike and saw glowing lava creep down the mountain and flow into the ocean. We cracked open a coconut from the yard and enjoyed the sweetness of a fresh pineapple. We saw waterfalls and snorkeled with a pod of spinner dolphins, body surfed and wrote messages on the lava with white rocks — graffiti, Hawaiian style.

There is one thing I always try to do with anyone who comes to visit, and that is to take them to the observatory on Mauna Kea so they can watch the sunset from the top of the world. As we drove toward the cutoff road that leads to the top of the mountain, I despaired of us having any kind of a view of the sunset. Because our volcano is currently spewing forth from a new vent, our once blue skies are now often clouded over with what we call “vog” — volcanic fog. Still, on the chance that we might be able rewarded with the view of a lifetime, I put the Jeep in four-wheel drive and crawled up the steep road, reminding myself that we would soon be above the haze.

I hadn't planned it this way, but the CD I happened to have playing on the drive up began with Israel Kamakawiwoole (“Iz” for short) singing a beautiful version of “What a Beautiful World.” As we climbed higher, I realized I had been right to press on, that we were going to enjoy a spectacular sunset.

When I look down from the top of Mauna Kea, I am always rewarded with breathtaking views and leave with a new perspective. I am grateful that God gives me a reminder every once in a while that if I can put my spirit in four-wheel drive and press on, I will eventually climb beyond the fog.

As we headed back down the mountain in low gear, the sunset faded and the stars came out. On that same CD was a version of “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.” I commented to my nephew that not every tour guide tailored the music to the sightseeing as well as I had done that evening. We stopped and looked into the heavens, at a place where stars from two hemispheres are visible.