Falling Into Happy Melancholy

Strolling over fallen leaves. The fall is at once so happy and then so melancholy. The undulating tone of life.



None of this is so bad. Right? Right? I'm not sure who will answer back on that one.



I sure end up in valleys quite often. Escaping the valleys carved in my mind by going to valleys. They continue to be barraged with earthly debris. The process hasn't ceased. My own valleys carry on the same.



How can anyone be happy with fall colors? This never occurred to me before. You just don't notice them and fix the problem.



What a shame I only get to see the curling refuse of maple leaves. Which is better, green or brown?



That poor tree in his quest for life grew himself into an inevitable corner of death. The longer he grows, the heavier he becomes. It all seemed worth the expense of photosynthesis. We all end up at a point where we can only heavily reflect and then fall.



Nobody is tending this roof. Do I prefer it that way?



There are always plenty of dark paths to wander into. Never forget it's half the fun just to light them up though. You don't have to settle in the dark and remember you might be happier to not be a bat. Then again does flying trump the ability of sight?



At least this bridge will never be one of the top three let downs in Japan. For that I'm feeling a bit happier.



Think typical autumn colors and you have hit success on this clever line.



We can't enjoy the crab soba if we keep being too melancholy.



Then we remember how the crabs were smashed and boiled to extract the brown meat floating on top.



Are ya melancholy again? I'm not. My stomach is full.



At once so happy and again so melancholy. Don't let the plants force you to believe it though.

Prime But Not Always Exact

There are many places we have been before.





There are many places that a million others have taken the same picture in.





There are many similar places we have looked at from far away.





Sometimes we can't decide what we are really looking at.





Then we recompose and see it a little different.





That was better.





I'll be back home as if I was never here.





It's hard to keep things aligned when they all reverberate inside of you.





There it is again.





Then it escapes you once more.





Get me a roller for this hot asphalt dumping between my thoughts.





It smooths out paths to somewhere, sometimes familiar.





But haven't I crossed this bridge once, twice, maybe three times already?





Yes but I'm going places I've never been before.

Hangers or Hangars?

I freed myself from school early and fled from the hills as quickly as possible on Friday. It was all for the cause of finding new hiking/walking shoes. What a let down, right? Yes, if you consider the fact I didn't make much progress in finding some new footwear. That's not such a necessity right now anyway. While I was in the vicinity of the local airport I went to check out some old hangars. A random acquaintance told me about them back in September and I had been interested to check them out for myself. I couldn't find the Japanese word for hangar because I was typing the English in as hanger. That was a good spelling lesson for myself, albeit a shameful one.





In 1944 nine covered hangars and 32 uncovered plane storage areas were constructed for use by the air force. After the war the airport became the prefectural airport and the surrounding land returned to farming.  Today 7 of the 9 hangars still remain in rather good condition. 

The flight unit was named the White Chrysanthemum and originally did pilot training. But the planes were also used for suicide attacks, better known in English as kamikaze which means God Wind or sometimes Divine Wind. 26 planes were sent to southern Japan to a base in Kagoshima and subsequently fought in the battle of Okinawa. 56 individuals lost their lives.





This is the biggest hangar of the lot. According to the Japanese on the webpage I used to find the history of the hangars, there are about 60 bullet holes from being strafed by American machine gun fire. I didn't think they had been attacked so I didn't look very close. I might have to give it another look when I'm in the area sometime.








Almost every hangar has some form of agriculture equipment or garbage inside of it now. They are quasi storage sheds for the local farmers.





The other hangars are much smaller. The interesting thing is that their positions seem to be placed very randomly. I think they all face varying directions. I apparently missed the sign that explains the hangars. One exists somewhere in the area. I'll have to track that down.






The sun was beginning to sink in the sky and it cast heavy shadows on the hangars.








I'll follow up with some more information after I have read through the Japanese on the history a little more.








There was one more hangar I didn't make it over to. It has a road going through it. I guess a second trip will be worthwhile after all.