Lychee season on Kaua‘i is a blink—a burst of sweetness that vanishes almost as quickly as it begins. One day, the trees are heavy with fruit, blushing red and singing with birds. The next thing you know, the branches are stripped clean—sometimes by our community, sometimes by flocks of rose-ringed parakeets, sometimes just by the wind.
But for a few short weeks between May and July, the island glows with a kind of collective joy. Kids suck the slippery flesh straight from the seed. Aunties fill paper bags to bring to neighbors. And we, as a family, get to witness one of the most magical cycles of the year.
It’s not just fruit. It’s summer. It’s sacred. It’s memory.
What Lychee Season Means to Us
If you’ve been to our little shop before, you know we don’t just sell food—we live it. We grow as much as we can ourselves, and what we can’t grow, we source from other small farmers right here on Kaua‘i. And lychee is one of those things that brings everyone together.
There’s something nostalgic about the way lychee makes people light up. It’s that first cold bite on a hot day. It’s juice dripping down your wrist. It’s the pile of skins on the kitchen table. For our kids, it’s a sticky-chinned summer ritual. For us, it’s a love letter to the land and to the trees that feed us.
But this year, lychee almost didn’t happen for us.
The Rose-Ringed Parakeet Problem
We don’t usually talk much about the challenges of growing food on Kaua‘i. But here’s one we can’t ignore: the rose-ringed parakeet.
They’re beautiful birds, with lime green feathers and clever eyes. But they’re invasive—and they’re hungry. These parakeets travel in flocks, and when they find a lychee tree, they don’t nibble. They feast.
And for small family growers, it’s devastating. Not just financially (though yes, that too), but emotionally. These trees are part of our family. We’ve cared for them, nurtured them, played under them, climbed them.. and we wait all year for this brief moment of abundance.
So this year, we decided to fight back. Gently. Creatively. As a family.
Scarecrow Day
One Sunday in April, before the fruit had even ripened, we declared it: Scarecrow Day.
We pulled out old shirts from the closet, cut bamboo poles, and found things in the garden or tool shed to create with. Our kids got into it fast—naming each scarecrow like they were cousins. A few had ipu gourds for heads. Some wore Ola’s old clothes. Other’s had big palm fronds for arms!
There was laughter. There was play. There was that rare feeling of hope that bubbles up when you do something small, but full of love, in the face of something big.
We tied the scarecrows to branches, they soared up above the tops of the trees..And you know what? It worked.
Not perfectly. But enough.
Our trees stayed full. The parakeets kept their distance. And when the fruit turned ruby-red, we knew we’d done something powerful: we’d protected what we love without giving up.
The Taste of Summer
Lychee is the kind of fruit that tastes like a secret. Sweet & floral, a little tart. Eating them evokes memory deep within each of us, even if they’ve never had it before. It’s playful, joyful, present.. It’s like childhood in a fruit. No wonder it sells out faster than anything else in our shop.
But we’ve learned something after years of growing: lychee doesn’t like to be rushed.
When it’s ripe, you’ll feel a slight give when you press it. The skin will deepen to a rich pink-red, and sometimes it’ll even crack a little, revealing the glisten of white inside. That’s when you know it’s time.
And once it’s time, you eat as much as you can while it lasts. Or—you do what we do: you dry it.
Why We Dehydrate Our Lychee
We can’t ship fresh lychee, but we wanted a way to share it beyond the island. So we started dehydrating small batches.
Here’s what makes ours different:
- We use tree-ripened fruit only. Not underripe. Not overripe. Just that perfect, tender window.
- We dry to perfection. Low heat, slow time. No sugar added, because nature already knows what she’s doing.
- It’s seasonal. Once it’s gone, it’s gone. We won’t have it again until next year.
Dehydrated lychee is like candy from the island. Chewy. Intensely sweet. And infused with the energy of this moment—summer on Kaua‘i.
What We Hope You Feel When You Eat It
This might sound silly. But every fruit holds memory. Energy. Story. And we believe that when you eat something grown with intention, you’re eating more than flavor. You’re receiving a gift.
We want you to feel that. Whether you’re here on Kaua‘i or far away, we want you to feel the sun that ripened the fruit. The joy of our kids naming scarecrows. The quiet strength of a tree that has weathered a storm. The care that goes into every step—from picking to drying.
Our dehydrated lychee isn’t just a snack. It’s a way to hold summer in your hand. A way to say: this matters. This is worth savoring.
Signs of Summer on Kaua‘i
Every island has its signs. For us, lychee is one of them.
Other signs are blooming:
- The scent of pakalana in the morning air.
- The feeling of calm as the waves mellow out
- The sound of kids barefoot and laughing in the yard.
- Mangoes turning gold on their branches.
- The early morning light and late summer evenings
But lychee is the first firework. The soft explosion that says: Summer is here.
We hope you get to taste it. Fresh, if you can. Or, if not—preserved with love, sealed in a bag, waiting for you to open it and remember that joy is a season worth protecting.
Want to try our dehydrated lychee?
We only make a limited amount each year, and it’s only available from May to August (or until we sell out). You can pick some up in the shop or order online (shop here)
And if you have your own lychee memories—share them with us. Stop in and tell us your story, or tag us on Instagram @ohi.ohi.kauai
Summer won’t last. But its sweetness can.
🌿 With love from our garden to yours,
— ʻOhi ʻOhi