Story: Light for the Wise ‘Auku’u

A blue and white bird with a long black beak and fiery red eyes stands in profile facing left with blue water behind it.

November 8, 2026

Wisdom of Solomon 6:12-16
Matthew 25:1-13

The ‘auku’u is the most widespread heron in the world, and the only kind of heron that’s native to Hawai’i. This is a story about some of the first ones to get here, a long time ago, so long ago that the people hadn’t arrived yet.

I don’t really know how or why the first ‘auku’u got here. For that matter, I don’t know how the ancestors of the mountain honeycreepers got here. It’s a big ocean for birds with small wings. For whatever reason, whether they were storm-tossed or adventurous or just lucky, the first ‘auku’u turned up in the Hawaiian Islands, looked around, and said, “We can live here. There’s quiet pools along the shore for fishing, and there’s grasses for nesting, and none of the creatures that like to eat our eggs. We can definitely live here.”

So they did.

There’s a funny thing, though. In English the ‘auku’u is called the black-crowned night heron. I’ve always found the “black-crowned” a bit of a puzzle, because although the ‘auku’u has a long tuft of feathers trailing from the top of its head it’s often white. But I guess it looks darker in this photo, so there it is. It’s called the night heron because in most of the places where it lives, and that’s a lot of places, they fish at night, when other fishing birds are asleep.

In Hawai’i, though, you’ll see the night heron in the daytime, and that’s what this story is about.

The first ‘auku’u fished the way they always had. They fished at night. Down they went to pools of saltwater or freshwater and searched for a fish dinner. It worked fine. There weren’t any other birds to bother them, so the difficulties of finding fish in the dark were offset because they had more time to do it.

Then one of them got an idea.

“This would be easier if I could see better,” he said. “What if I make a light?”

Other ‘auku’u thought this sounded very clever, and it was. People in many places, in fact, have fished very successfully at night be hanging a light on their boats. The fish get curious and come to take a look.

“I can see one problem,” said another ‘auku’u. “What are you going to make a light with?”

“I’ve found this nut,” said the first ‘auku’u, “and I noticed the other day when there was a lightning storm that it burns pretty brightly. It’s got an oil inside and I’m sure it will make a great light.”

The ‘auku’u was right again. Generations of Hawaiians and other Polynesian peoples have used the kukui nut’s oil to make lamps. It was pretty clever. The ‘auku’u started to get excited. They started coming up with ideas about harvesting the nuts – they could pull them off the trees – and pressing the oil out of the nuts – they thought they could use their beaks for that – and putting the oil in holes in the rock – volcanic rock has a lot of holes – and…

It all broke down when they had to figure out a way to light it. They’d seen lightning do it, but we don’t get a lot of lightning storms in Hawai’i, and how do you arrange for one when you want to light a lamp? They couldn’t figure that part out.

“Wait, I’ve got an idea,” said another ‘auku’u. “What if we fished when it’s light out?”

“What do you mean?” said another.

“What if we fish in the daytime?” she replied.

“But we can’t,” said another ‘auku’u. “We never have. Other birds come and steal our fish. Animals come and grab them. It’s better at night.”

“What other birds?” she said. “What animals? What’s better about the night?”

They thought about it, the ‘auku’u did. “We could give it a try,” said one. “There’d be plenty of light,” said the one who wanted to invent the kukui oil lamp.

So they tried fishing in the light.

They’ve been doing it that way in Hawai’i ever since.

by Eric Anderson

Watch the Recorded Story

I write these stories in full ahead of time, but I tell them from memory and improvisation. The story as written and the story as delivered do not precisely match. I regret that the audio on this recording is extremely low – we were having technical problems.

Photo of an ‘auku’u by Eric Anderson.

Story: How the ‘Akepa Began to Sip Nectar

July 3, 2022

Galatians 6:1-16
Luke 10:1-11, 16-20

If you’re not familiar with the ‘akepa, they are another of the small birds who live in the ohi’a forest. The males are a vivid orange or orange-red with black feathers on the edge of their wings. The females’ feathers are gray-green, rather close in color to ohi’a leaves. Mostly they eat bugs. And spiders. And caterpillars, which are the early stage of, well, bugs.

They eat a lot of bugs.

From time to time, though, they eat a little bit of ohi’a nectar. The i’iwi sip nectar nearly all of the time. The ‘apapane mostly sip nectar but will also eat some bugs. The ‘amakihi like to mix up their meals, some nectar here, some bugs there, some fruit in some other places. And the ‘akepa… eat bugs.

They eat a lot of bugs.

But they do sip a bit of nectar from time to time, and this is how that came about. The first known sip was an accident. A bright orange ‘akepa was hopping about the tree, poking his beak into clusters of leaves, searching for those tasty little bugs and spiders. A somewhat careless poke with his beak came back with nectar, not a bug.

It was a revelation. It wasn’t a bug – wouldn’t make a meal – but it would be a tasty snack every once in a while.

He decided he needed to share the news with the other ‘akepa. He found the little flock he flew with picking over another tree and shouted, “Hey, idiots! Try sipping the nectar!”

To a bird, they gave him a look that said, “Who are you calling an idiot?” and went back to chasing bugs.

“Are you stupid? Try the nectar!” They ignored him.

He kept this up for quite some time, getting more and more insulting until sunset put an end to his harangue. All the ‘akepa in the little flock went to sleep pretty irritated, in his case with them, and their case with him.

In the morning, before he could get started, one of his friends, a young female, flew over to him. “Are you going to call us idiots all day?” she asked.

“But you are!” he said.

“No, we’re not,” she said. “What we are is insulted. Now if you’ve found something interesting, we might consider it, but not as long as you treat us badly.”

He opened his beak to yell, but something in her look told him that he shouldn’t. He closed his beak. He opened it. He closed it. He sighed.

Then he dipped his beak into a nearby ohi’a blossom and gave it a good, deep sip.

“You might want to try this,” he said. “It’s different. And pretty good.”

She looked at him. He dipped his beak again.

“You’re not playing games with us?”

“No. I’m not.”

After she tried it, other ‘akepa tried it, too. Mostly, Ihave to say, they preferred bugs, and they do to this day. But also to this day, no ‘akepa has liked being called an idiot, and I guess that’s true of a lot of creatures in this world.

by Eric Anderson

Watch the Recorded Story

The story was told live from memory of this manuscript – with all the improvisations and omissions that suggests.

Photo of an ‘akepa by Melissa McMasters from Memphis, TN, United States – Hawaii akepa, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=74469703.