Japanese November Day

This afternoon I got on my bike with the full intention of going to the hall to practice.  I reached a red traffic light and taking the hint, decided to do something that I don't normally do: whatever I want.  With that, my bike went down a ramp and I found myself heading to a siren place that has called me from across the river every time I bike to HPAC.  It was in me to do this, to want this, but for some reason today I freed myself to go there.

Fields of beautiful purple and gold flowers; families, photographers, and painters were all gently taking it in.  Not a blossom unappreciated, a perspective unseen.  Vendors were there with snacks and a lift hoisted people to a higher view.  

I continued on, following my whim as I biked along a road that divided the beauty and recreation of the river from the houses, schools, neighborhoods, and gardens of practicality.  It wasn't long before I dove I in.

road between dividing the neighborhoods from the river

the crows, the biggest thing in Japan,
and they are always watching

homes in the neighborhood

garden plot

persimmon tree

It's hard not to take a  picture of everything.  The cars, the plants, the laundry.  It's all so different and beautiful.  But I feel like what I want to capture is the feeling of time and space and that just can't be relayed with a camera.  At least not by me with my present skills and tools.  Everything is much closer, smaller, and perhaps more deliberate.  I'm not sure that "slow" is the right word to describe the difference in the feeling; but there is more care, less rush and stress.  Perhaps I will try to better cultivate my abilities with evocative language and photography to capture it, but until then I'm afraid I will have to keep the full experience with me.  It's not out of selfishness that I do so, only inability to properly communicate it.


In a full attempt to get lost this afternoon, I took several turns into the neighborhood and found a little shopping street district.  The façade of a fancy grocery store suggested that I stop and take a look so I parked my bike.

shopping district

sale rack

there's adventurous shopping, and
then there's cat food; thankful
for helpful nonverbal graphics 

found in most Japanese grocery stores, a delicious hot food takeaway section

Back on my bike, I headed in the direction of my instinct, but as the sun was setting and my orientation not as clear, I decided to ask a police officer the way.  He pointed in the opposite direction.  Hmmm.  Trumping my instinct and my shaky faith in communication, I headed to the real source of knowledge, the river.  It's impossible to be completely lost with such a source, there all the time.  I can stray from it, find it again and know where I am.  

A morning of zazen, an appreciation of the beauty of autumn's transience, and an exploratory bike ride. A day of freedom in a Japanese November.