Up to Higashi Taki

I pulled my car off to the side of the road and watched the clouds intently. I leaned back in my seat and grumbled about the conditions. It was going to take a lot to get me out of the car. I recalled that the winter fat on my body could use a bit of a work out. It was far more important to circulate the blood than give up. The walk was 1km up hill and that meant I would be a pool of lovely sweat.



The countryside is full of junk, heaps of junks nobody will ever do anything with. Whoever did a land survey last year tied plastic markers on many trees along the way. A year later and those are strewn along the path. Nobody is around here enough to care. It won't change. Much like these empty glass bottles that will sit here for another hundred years before they are broken into pieces, lying in wait for a poor soul to dig into the earth.



I didn't forget this house was along the way. The path is far overgrown and the single wooden log leading across a stream is unsafe at best. I checked it once, then twice, and then again once more. It held this time but the next time is might be rotted away.

Wood and rust. It's mostly what one can see in these decaying relics. Old sheet metal left in the rain far longer than anyone imagined they would. Relics in nature's control.

I peeked in the window and saw a paper bag hanging from the rafters above. Too new and out of place to be safe. It looked abandoned but some decrepit old man might have gone off to tend his dying orchards in the mean time.

The entry way far too warm and cheery in its filthy state, I couldn't edge the door open any wider. Not because it was stuck but because up through the trees rustled noises. Noises not of nature but of man. The house was brooding. It wasn't in the mood to allow me to play. For me there is rarely never, it's just next time.

Goshiki made me break a sweat but this felt harder. So that is why I didn't want to leave the car earlier. It was a continuous upward walk. Devoid of much scenery except sugi and bamboo. Bamboo would have never been here long ago. Is it a pest or a blessing? Finally the audible sounds of water came into my ears and a nice rest was in store for my dripping brow.

A few hours earlier I was sitting at a temporary desk and was contemplating. But here is where my real desks are.

Okay I will concede that you relaxed my soul. But I want you raging. I'll be back in June. You do your part. Until then my love.

Back through the bamboo and back to home.