smooth sailing for dragonflies

It`s late September. The irratic dance of the dragonflies I usually enjoy has turned to a relaxed, gentle sway above the ricefields...in tandem. Dragonfly mating season is a surefire sign that fall is here. Although the leaves are not yet betraying summer, the rice is turning a golden yellow, or more like a vibrant glowing colour that jumps out at your periferal vision.
The last few days I`ve taken to cycling by the riverside and the joys it has brought are plentiful. There are about five kilometres of trails, lined with parks the whole way. On the weekends people must congregate there, but daytime afternoons they are left all to me ;)
In only three days I`ve come across many beautiful blue herons and one white egret. I don`t think I`d ever seen a white one before. These birds are plentiful around ricefields and rivers. I love seeing one take off into flight, their long, gawky neck lurching forward as they push their wings mercilessly against gravity. Once in the air their elegance astounds, sailing silently above the river. Othertimes they are perched knee deep in the gushing water, poised and waiting patiently for dinner. If I were a bird, I might like to be an egret. They don`t seem to have a lot of predators, they are elegant and frogs probably taste pretty good.
There are a pair of hawks that own a couple of trees along the route as well. One was perched about eye-level in the tree that slopes down the path to the river. She took to flight as I passed and I felt like I could reach out in our proximity to embrace her. Of course, I would no longer have my nose or vision in one eye if that really happened. The other tends to sit atop the telephone pole... the town crier I suppose. The first day, I stopped to get a closer look and to look for fallen feathers. Before taking off, the one on the pole let me know this is his territory with a screech or two. Hunched over the grass looking for feathers, the ground suddenly and briefly washed over with shadow. It sent a chill down my back. Looking up, the hawk was soaring way up by the sun, surely keeping his gaze fixed on me. In Japan there have been reports of crows attacking people, but I don`t know about hawks. Thankfully a cute litte feather made itself visible down the slope and I shuffled down a ways to get it. It must be from his chest or under the tail. The brown spotted markings are undeniably hawk. It`s a treasure. I only wish I could bring him a mouse or a snake in exchange!
Speaking of which, I`ve also been blessed by the presence of one snake and one praying mantis. The snake appeared yesterday, snaking his way across the bike path. When he sensed me coming it was almost comical the way he sped up, shuffling his body back and forth so rigourously to make it to tall grass. I was in awe, braking to get a longer look as I passed him. His neck was stretched out, high above the pavement as he
struggled to move faster. His poor body jerked back and forth, not moving fast enough for his preference.
I love snakes. We saw one last week at To No Hetsuri (that entry coming soon) which was about 1 metre long and weaving his way through the stone effigies and coins left at a sacred spot. Despite our presence he was in no way trying to escape but rather slithered about at length in front of us, to the extent that we walked away first! Today one attempted to cross the road as I passed on my bike. He quickly realized that wasn`t cool and retreated on a dime. They are such magical creatures. The Japanese also believe that it`s good luck to see a snake. One has appeared in my dreams this week also.
Next time I`ll try to upload some photos from this beautiful riverside venture. I brought the camera, but was enjoying myself too much to remember to use it!
Peace and Love.

A Wee Backtrack

On July 12th Kohei and I arrived in Japan. Saying some teary goodbyes to grandmas, grandpa and my folks, the plane ride was a surreal travel through space and time, having been 2 years since my last venture on this soil.

Within a week, Kohei and I made the pilgrimage to Akita for Obon, a gathering time to remember ancestors, visit graves and pay respects to extended family members. As always, Kohei`s family is warmly inviting. We stayed for two nights, ate delectible foods and slept soundly despite summer`s raging heat. Summer festivals are a welcome respite from the heat. We passed one on our drive.



Though Obon is first and foremost about family, Kohei`s parents let us jet off to Akita City one morning for a flash visit with old friends. Miho and Ritsuko are Akita`s most gracious divas and our most precious friends. They are insanely busy with planning parties around the prefecture, both with international guests and with our fav local djs. How can you top a weekend of grooving in the pristine mountains of Akita, next to an outdoor hotspring bath surrounded by humble, loving friends?



Soon Miho had to be off to work. Ritsuko, the eternal social monarch managed to get the boys gathered together in half an hour for a quick hello. The guilty party below is known for keeping the vibe pounding for days with never a wink of tire: Kohei, Ritsuko, Sato-san, Yanagita-san and Go.



Mom, Dad and little Kuri-chan (Chestnut) escorted us part of the way back to Fukushima where Kohei works. It gave them a chance to go for a drive and also was a great help to us in navigating a portion of the 6 hour journey home, not to mention the lunch they treated us to at a fabulous green-tea-flavoured soba shop.



Even in the rain its entrance way was stunning



S`all for now ;)

Yamadera (Mountain Temple)

Today I went for a bike tour and landed up at a gorgeous temple at the foot of the mountains that enclose our small town. The grounds are immaculate, centuries old cedar trees loom at the entrance and weather worn stone sculptures and old wooden structures nestled between the sculpted foliage. I was moved by the peacefulness of the place, a veritable refuge from all that our days demand. Hesitant to enter the building yet drawn in by its friendly atmosphere, I drew some money out of my pocket for the donation box. As I entered a staff person saw me and called out a welcome. On the other side of the donation box was a floor cushion at a small table ready with incense and a ringing bowl. Unsure of what to do, I asked the woman to guide me. We lit the incense, placed it in the middle of the ash bowl, struck the ringing bowl three times and prayed. The resonance of the bowl seemed to expand with my heart and at once I felt...nothingness, in a good way.
They invited me in to have some tea. My usual hesitant self was about to decline politely when the ridiculousness of such a refusal began to come clear. Why not open myself up to whatever may come of the experience, instead of always being afraid to trouble others? So down the wooden hallway I pattered behind the woman in her work apron. The high wooden beams of the roof stretched from the place of the altar all the way to where we now sat, tatami mats running the length of the great, open structure. As we made small talk over tea, the priest came to greet me as well. It turns out the building is 200 years old, making it a national heritage site. He gifted me a scented wooden bead bracelet for prayer, a pamphlet of proverbs and a pair of `his and hers` chopsticks along with an invitation to come and visit the temple anytime. A few years ago an English teacher from Canada also befriended him and I think he is looking forward to striking up a similar friendship. I hope to be able to take him up on his hospitality and to viscariously learn more about the subtlties that hold this culture together. Besides that, I want to explore the gardens. I hear there are lots of snakes!