11. 桜始開: "Cherry Blossoms Begin to Open"

(BGM: "Happy" by Pharrell Williams)

Shichijuni-kou (72 Seasons) Calendar Listing
仲春, Chushun: "Mid-spring"
Season No. 4: 春分, Shunbun: 
"Vernal Equinox"  

"Sanjusangendo Sakura, Kyoto" (C) 2004 Gen, Genkilee, All Rights Reserved

Climate No. 11: 桜始開
Sakura Hajimete Hiraku:
" Cherry Blossoms Begin to Open" 
(March 25-29)

The winds of spring wash over Japan in gentle waves, each one warmer than the last, coaxing the sakura (桜 cherry) trees into revealing their beauty hidden within. Weather forecasters and news announcers wring their hands in excited anticipation as they rave about the progress of the sakura zensen (桜前線 cherry blossom front) flowing over the country from south to north.

Somei Yoshino Cherry Blossoms, Toride City, Ibaraki Prefecture (2007)

You can't help but be in a good mood when you see such fresh loveliness.

Pretty In Pink (2001, Maruyama Park, Kyoto)

Or can you?

Here is where springtime in Japan gets a little confusing. Just when everyone's starting to shake off their winter fat and depression, radio broadcasts and music video programs are flooded with the annual tide of sound-alike sakura themed J-pop songs. Though released by different artists, many of them share similar word imagery, progression, even lyrics, as if written by the same lovelorn junior high school student. They also invariably share a common mood: melancholy.

Here's a list of a few of the more popular sakura songs. Note the recurring themes:

"Sakura Drops" by Utaka Hikaru (the fear of love going wrong)
"Sakura Chiru" by Gackt (love lost and permanent separation)
"Sakura Zaka" by Masaharu Fukuyama (lost love)
"Sakura" by Ketsumeishi (love lost and regrets)
"Sakura" by Kobukuro (the sadness of death and loss)
"Sakura Sake" by Arashi (separation and hope of reunion)
"Sakura (dokushou)" by Moriyama Naotaro (painful goodbyes and the hope of reunion)
"Sakura" by Ikimono Gakari (goodbyes, graduation, separation)
"Sakura No Ki Ni Narou" by AKB-48 (graduation, separation, hope of reunion)
"Sakura Iro Maukoro" by Nakashima Mika (fear of separation, the impermanence of love)

So why the sudden wave of depressing songs in the season of hope and renewal?

The answer can be found in Japan's literary traditions. Classic masterpieces such as Murasaki Shikibu's The Tale of Genji  (源氏物語 Genji Monogatari) illustrate how people in the Heian period (794 to 1185 A.D.) would refer to flowers and other lifeforms to represent their emotions through poetry and music.

Of course, this phenomenon is not unique to Japanese culture. But literary theorist Motoori Norinaga (1730-1801) helped bring this concept to light when he coined the phrase mono no aware (物の割られ sorrow at evanescence). Mono no aware refers to the beauty and sadness of the fleeting, temporal nature of all life. This concept is perfectly reflected in the short but sweet eloquence of sakura petals as they open gloriously and flutter gracefully in the wind to their deaths.

Brief and fragile like a 13-yr old girl's emotions, cherry blossoms remind us to savor every moment, every encounter, before they disappear forever.

But in this particular case, I'm quite thankful to be a foreigner. I don't have to succumb to any cultural programming that dictates what I'm supposed to feel or when I should feel it. Just as I don't have to buy presents for Christmas, or sacrifice a goat on Yom Kippur, I don't feel the need to be sad and introspective when I see cherry trees in bloom. I would much rather be happy, having lived through yet another hard, trying winter.

One can look to Japan's culinary culture for uninterrupted enjoyment of spring pleasures.

Sakura-themed evening meal at Nogami Honkan hot springs lodge, Beppu, Kyushu (2004)

 Now that's more like it!

Taste of the Season: 桜餅 Sakura Mochi 

Sakura mochi (right) and other sweets of the season.

Now that I think about it, I guess there is something I feel helplessly compelled to do when I see sakura blossoms, and not due to the influence of pop culture. I see those seasonal pink cloth advertisement banners flapping in the wind outside our local wagashi sweets shop and get this strong desire to sink my teeth into a sweet, sticky sakura mochi rice ball.

There are several kinds of sakura mochi in Japan, but my absolute favorite is Kansai style. A ball of sticky pink mochi rice is stuffed with a dollop of sweet bean paste and the whole thing is wrapped in a sakura leaf pickled in salt and maybe perilla juice if you're lucky. The combination of sweet, salty, starchy and sour goes perfectly with a piping hot cup of bitter coffee or tea.

Since I've waited an entire year for this delicacy, I'm looking forward to going to the store and picking one up. I could apply the concept of mono no aware to this situation, sure, understanding that once I consume that mouth-watering rice ball, I will have nothing left of it, save for the memory and some satisfied gurgles in my gut. But that won't sadden me to the point of writing a lame cookie-cutter song about it. I can understand the thinking behind the Taoist idea that you need sadness to become aware of any happiness in life.

But unlike many Japanese this time of year, I choose not to combine the two. As my father always said, "happiness is a choice." When I see flowers in bloom, I  choose to feel only joy. Besides, I don't think the flowers would appreciate knowing that their presence made people sad.

So there.  

Copyright 2014 Genkilee, Gen. All rights reserved. No part of this blog (written or photo content) may be reproduced or reprinted without the expressed permission of the author.

10. 雀始巣: " Sparrows Build Their Nests"

(BGM: "This Must Be The Place" by Talking Heads)

Shichijuni-kou (72 Seasons) Calendar Listing
仲春, Chushun: "Mid-spring"
Season No. 4: 春分, Shunbun: 
"Vernal Equinox"  

"Sparrows On the March" (Kagamiyama Park, Higashi Hiroshima City)

The cold air snaps of early spring are practically gone, yet I'm still wearing thermals out of habit. It's a time of evenness, of balance. With little effort, I feel good in my skin, again. And with the equinox comes a positivity that's reflected everywhere, from the blooming flowers to the morning birdsong symphony.

Fresh water and flowers for the dearly departed (Motoujina, Hiroshima City)

According to Buddhist custom, the vernal equinox Shunbun (春分), like its autumnal counterpart Higan, is a time for cleaning family graves. To the American mind, a day of grave cleaning might sound rather depressing, as death is a taboo subject in our culture.

But for many of my Japanese friends, Shunbun no Hi (Vernal Equinox Day) is far from unpleasant. In fact it's quite the opposite. It's a time of emotional cleansing. For many Japanese, the deceased are still considered active members of the family, despite their lack of physical form. Quite a few people I've spoken with still consult the spirits of their departed loved ones as if they were still living and breathing.

Traditionally for Shunbun no Hi, the family prepares fresh flowers, Buddhist prayer paraphernalia, a picnic lunch and sweets called ohagi (soft mochi rice coated in anko bean paste) and head out to the family cemetery. After cleaning and sprucing up the graves, they offer prayers and incense to the deceased, maybe inform them of certain important family events, and finish with a relaxing picnic in the warm spring sunshine. Some families go out for a fancy dinner after cleaning up the family graves, followed by a soak in the local hot springs. Whichever way they do it, they leave with a clear conscience, ready for new year ahead.

Climate No. 10:  雀始巣:
Suzume Hajimete Sukuu:
" Sparrows Build Their Nests" 
(March 20-24)

Sparrow Chick (Toride City, Ibaraki)

Though the term suzume in the Shichijuni-kou calendar refers specifically to the Eurasian Tree Sparrow (Passer montanus saturatus) for this season, all sorts of birds are now pairing up, checking out real estate and building their nests of straw and mud. Just this morning, I spotted the first swallows of the new year, inspecting last year's nest under the roof of a ramen shop. Carrion crows and starlings can frequently be seen flying through the air with straw in their beaks. Everyone seems so busy in the buildup to true spring!

Sparrows still in their thermals despite warm March air. (Kamakura City, Kanagawa Prefecture)

Suzume sparrows in particular are quite dear to the Japanese heart. Not only are they incredibly cute and jump up and down like little girls playing hopscotch, but they can be quite tame at the prospect of free food. Their general upbeat character has inspired dance (such as Sendai's spirited Suzume Odori), art, the rather violent fable Shita Kiri Suzume (which portrays the birds as magical benefactors), and even poetry.

"In blossoms
  A horsefly plays... don't eat it
   Friend sparrow."  -Matsuo Basho

I've yet to meet a person in Japan who dislikes sparrows. Even my husband calls them his "little buddies." Lucky for him, they're preparing to multiply.


Taste of the Season: 蕨, Warabi, Bracken

A boxed lunch of green bracken (left) and other mountain veggies on rice. (JR Tokaido Shinkansen)

The boiled fronds of bracken fern (Pteridium) are eaten in Japan and Korea as a common spring vegetable. Their soft, understated taste goes well with rice and starchy root vegetables like bamboo shoots and lotus root.

Two types of edible fern at the supermarket: zenmai (brown, left) and warabi (green, right).

Despite their prominence in Japanese cuisine, warabi, as opposed to its brown fiddlehead cousin zenmai (Osmunda japonica), is potentially carcinogenic to humans and other mammals. Recent studies have shown an association between bracken consumption and stomach cancer. An interesting blog about the controversy, along with a how-to of "safe" preparation can be found here.

Ice-cold warabi mochi from a vendor truck, sprinkled with kinako powder. (Odori Park, Sapporo, Hokkaido)

For many, rubbery boiled fern fronds can be an acquired taste. A different, much sweeter way of enjoying bracken is to have a nice plastic tray full of wiggly cool warabi mochi, a Japanese sweet resembling Jell-o, made from warabi starch mixed with boiling water. Warabi mochi comes in an assortment of bright colors and rich, sugary toppings. But my personal favorite is the gorgeous matcha green tea flavor pictured below.

Green tea flavored warabi mochi. (Saijo, Higashi Hiroshima)

I first became a fan of warabi mochi when my dorm mate Sumire whipped up a batch for me in my Alaskan kitchen. Though both of us aced all of our science classes, neither of us were aware at the time that we might've been consuming hydrogen cyanide or DNA-damaging ptaquiloside. But that's neither here nor there. To me, it's one of those tastes that's worth the occasional risk.
Since the mochi version of warabi is so processed, I'm guessing (hoping) that any risk is automatically removed from the product, anyways.

Let's just go along with that idea. It is the season of positivity, after all. :-)

Copyright 2014 Genkilee, Gen. All rights reserved. No part of this blog (written or photo content) may be reproduced or reprinted without the expressed permission of the author.

Hikone Castle Cherry Blossom Festival (Hikone City, Shiga)

滋賀県彦根市彦根城：彦根城桜まつり Hikone Castle Sakura Festival, Hikone City, Shiga Pref.

(BGM: "Sakura Drops" by Utada Hikaru)

(This blog entry is dedicated to my Mother).

Have you ever lived in a place so breathtaking that it hurts to remember its beauty?

Shiga Prefecture is that way to me. It is both my muse and my ghost. I've put off writing about Shiga (pronounced shee-gah) for an entire year now, simply because I feared the waves of sadness that would drown me should I try to recall the details of the place. With all my heart I loved living there. And with all my heart, I hated having to leave it. I remember it as sweetly and as pained as if recalling my mother's scent. By the familiar fragrance of cherry blossoms in warm spring air, my senses conjure up the memory of Shiga's Hikone Castle automatically, without my mind's permission.

At times like this, I guess the only thing to do is to give in to the memory and savor it.

Hikone Castle (彦根城, Hikone-Jou)

One of Japan's few remaining original castles, daimyo Ii Naokatsu's masterpiece watches proudly over Hikone City atop its hilltop perch. Completed in 1622, this national treasure plays annual host to one of Shiga's most glorious events: the Hikone Castle Cherry Blossom Festival (彦根城桜まつり, Hikone-jo Sakura Matsuri), where the castle seems to float on billowing clouds of light pink petals.

Majestic Hikone Castle with Cherry Blossoms (C) 2011, Genkilee, Gen. All Rights Reserved.

As residents of Hikone City (pronounced hee-koh-neh), my family and I received bi-annual complimentary tickets to Hikone Castle and its exquisite environs (including Genkyuen Garden and the Hikone Castle Museum), in both spring and autumn, when the sites are at their most bewitching.

Pleasure Cruises around the Outer Moat of Hikone Castle (C) 2011 Genkilee, Gen. All Rights Reserved.

Between April 1 and April 20, depending on how the sakura (cherry tree) season rolls along, the 1200 cherry trees surrounding Hikone Castle explode in poufs of white and pale pink, transforming this Special Historic Site into a fairytale dreamworld. The trees come alive with the soft humming of honeybees as petals drift down like snow to decorate the watery moats below in pink confetti.

Nature's Spring Party Favors!

Many varieties of Prunus serrulata (Japanese Cherry) can be enjoyed within the castle grounds, but the undeniable diva of this show is the Yoshino Cherry (染井吉野, Somei-Yoshino, Prunus x Yedoensis). Older than any of us alive today, these regal trees arch gracefully like masterful ladies of the dance, waving their fluffy flower pompons in the slightest breeze. It's truly a spectacle to behold.

The Somei-Yoshino variety of flowering cherry is the most popular in Japan.

The trees spiral from the base of the hill all the way up to the top like pink frosting on a wedding cake.

Somei-Yoshino trees blooming at the foot of a turret.

A vivid pink Shidarezakura  (Weeping Cherry) near the plum gardens.

In contrast to the dominating snowy white, Weeping Cherries dot the landscape with occasional sharp bursts of bright pink. Even the most macho American male would fall helplessly captive to their soft, feminine wiles.

Two gentlemen admiring a Weeping Cherry inside the stables.

 A blushing couple taking their first stroll as husband and wife. They were very kind to pose just for me. :-)

For the festival, the outer moat is edged with paper lanterns: some strung, some standing, but each one painted with the name of an official sponsor to commemorate the event. The strung lanterns glow softly at night for the festival's illumination.

Note the snow of fallen blossoms on the grass.

Makeshift vendor stalls called yatai (屋台) pop up near the gardens, lulling revelers with temptations of food, drink and souvenirs. The mouth salivates helplessly as the delectable aroma of grilled world-famous Ohmi Beef (native to Hikone), yakitori chicken and okonomiyaki  (savory pancake) wafts through the air.

Vendors at the Festival

Whenever we go to a festival in Japan, Hubby and I always seek out the "Yakisoba Guy." It just doesn't seem like a celebration in Japan without a heaping plateful of thick, oily noodles fried up with cabbage, carrots and onions, coated in tangy, savory sauce. Maybe it's because we spent so many years in the greater Kanto area, where yakisoba is standard festival fare. It's one of those dishes that's really hard to screw up, so we know it'll be delicious anywhere we go. It's darn good in Hikone, too!

Our Yakisoba Guy doing it right!

It is possible in some designated parts of the park to spread out a plastic tarp for a day of picnicking under the cherry trees, in the charming tradition of hanami  (花見, "flower viewing"). But most visitors to the festival choose to stroll casually around the grounds in sober contemplation.

Many Japanese still dress up for flower-viewing in traditional kimono.

Hikone Castle: Genkyuen Garden （玄宮園）

Constructed by the Hikone Clan's fourth lord Ii Nao-oki in 1677, this naturally enclosed circular garden is more famous for its elegant balance of pine and maple trees than for spring blossoms. But a single glorious Somei-Yoshino cherry tree brings a welcome splash of spring brightness to this otherwise demure oasis of calm.

A stroll around the gardens with grandma.

Visitors to Genkyuen can enjoy a calming, expertly-whisked cup of frothy matcha (抹茶, green powdered tea) and traditional Hikone mochi confection for 500 yen. The tea master there is a living treasure trove of information about the history, art and flowers surrounding this enviable refuge of the Ii family.

Hikone Castle at Night

Night falls, and Hikone Castle slips into a stunning kimono of shimmering pale pastels on a backdrop of smooth black satin. The effect is too magical, too much for words. (It was apparently too much for my camera, as well).

Tiny Hikone Castle, an illuminated dot reflecting in the waters of the outer moat.

A Time for Reflection (C) 2012, Genkilee, Gen. All Rights Reserved.

A friend of mine told me the other day that "it's good to sit and reflect on past achievements." I'd like to take his idea one step beyond his original thought; it's good to work through memories, both painful and pleasurable. Though getting stuck in the past is indeed a risk, learning from experiences, and realizing you derived happiness and joy from them, can be an incredible instigator of growth and learning. By recalling the beauty of Hikone Castle in spring, I learned that my fears of pain were all for naught, and that I can be truly thankful for the opportunity of having lived in such an amazing place. Instead of sorrow, I have only gratitude. Many more posts about lovely Shiga to come in the near future. Stay tuned!


Hikone Castle Cherry Blossom Festival Information: 
Festival Dates: April 1st through April 20th.
Open Hours: The outer moat and walking trails are open all hours, though lights go out around 8pm. The inner moat and all castle-related facilities are open from 8:30am to 5:00pm. You'll want to be in the outer moat area after sunset anyways because the herons and thousands of crows nesting in the overhead trees will surely bomb you with guano if you linger. 
Holidays: The castle is open every day. The museum is closed from December 25th through the 31st for the New Year holidays.
Transportation Access:
(By Car): From Otsu, take the Meishin Expressway to the Hikone IC exit. Get on the Nakahori-Tozai Dori highway and keep driving west towards Lake Biwa until you intersect with Highway 25. Turn right and you'll find parking just inside the outer moat of the castle. The kind folks at the toll gate can give you a map with instructions to Hikone Castle.
(By Train): Take the Tokaido Shinkansen from Kyoto to Maibara Station (20 minutes, 2060 yen) and transfer to the JR Tokaido Line. It's only 5 minutes from Maibara Station to Hikone Station.
(On Foot): Clear instructions on how to walk to Hikone Castle from JR Hikone Station can be found in detail here. Maps detailing popular tourist attractions are available here.
Parking: Free parking available by the public library. Paid parking is otherwise available around the entire castle complex until 5:00pm.
Address: 1-1 Konkicho, Hikone, Shiga 522-0061
Admission Fee: 600 yen (for castle and Genkyuen Garden). 1000 yen (for castle, Genkyuen Garden and the museum).
Available Facilities: Public restrooms (western and J-style), gift shops (on top of the hill beside the castle), soba shop (inside Genkyuen), tea house (inside Genkyuen), ice cream and steamed bun vendors (near the museum), ice cream and drink vending machines (situated around the park), baseball field, tennis courts, walking courses, public library, museum.
Other Points of Interest in the Area: Yume-Kyobashi Castle Road (with traditional tea houses and gift shops), Lake Biwa (a 15-minute walk west of the castle), Kampo No Yado Hot Springs, Seri River and Zelcovia Tree Road (with many sakura trees), Hanashobu Lane, Ginza shopping lane, Hirata River (with even more sakura trees), Bell Road (with modern restaurants and shops), Nanamagari Butsudan district and countless surrounding streets with beautifully preserved temples, shrines, shops and houses.
Insider's Tip: Bring binoculars or a really good camera. Hikone Castle is home to many different kinds of birds from swans, teals, ducks and herons to white-eyes, thrushes and bulbuls! It also has resident tanuki (raccoon dogs) that often come out at night, competing with local cats for handouts and food scraps.

Copyright 2014 Genkilee, Gen. All rights reserved. No part of this blog (written or photo content) may be reproduced or reprinted without the expressed permission of the author.

9. 菜虫化蝶: "Caterpillars Transform into Butterflies"

(BGM: "Butterfly" by Mariah Carey)

Shichijuni-kou (72 Seasons) Calendar Listing
仲春, Chushun: "Mid-spring"
Season No. 3: 啓蟄, Keichitsu: 
"Hibernating Insects Awaken"

Cabbage Butterfly (Pieris rapae, 2009, Tsukuba University Botanical Gardens, Ibaraki Prefecture)

Climate No. 9:  菜虫化蝶:
Namushi Chou To Naru:
" Caterpillars Transform into Butterflies" 
(March 15-19)

Spring: a time of emergence, of transformations and metamorphosis. To the delight of aching blossoms and hungry birds everywhere, moths and butterflies slide out of silken sleeping bags and spread their wings for their first flights. The name namushi refers to the Cabbage Butterfly, reputed to be the among the first lepidoptera to grace the greening hills of Japanese springtime.

"Come butterfly
 It's late- 
 We've miles to go together."  -Matsuo Basho

Nettle-tree Butterfly (Libythea celtis)

Between repeating cold snaps and warm sunny days, I was doubtful I'd be fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of a butterfly in time for this season. Every chance I had, I would poke around hedges and shrubs, straining my eyes for a familiar flash of bright lemon yellow or white.

As luck would have it, just like that, while picnicking in a pleasant little hilltop garden overlooking the sea, a gorgeous Nettle-tree Butterfly flitted into view, resting perfectly still, as if knowing I wanted to take its picture. Painted in all the colors of a Texas sunset, this delicate creature allowed me get this close to it before flying away. It was almost as if I'd dreamed this moment into existence, but the wish materialized into something much more dazzling than I could have come up with in my mere imagination.

Which reminds me of a very seasonally appropriate poem:

"I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man." -Zuiangzi

Maid of Honor being fitted for a furisode  kimono  (Fukutsu City, Fukuoka Prefecture)

In the human world, late March is also a time of transitions: of preparations, ceremonies and closure. Women in Japan don elaborately decorated wings of brightly colored silken thread, preparing for March commencement ceremonies and April weddings.

Meiji University Commencement Ceremony at the Budoukan (Tokyo, 2007)

Meiji University graduates wearing traditional hakama aprons over their kimonos. (Tokyo, 2007)

Corresponding with the fiscal year, in late March all around Japan, government offices, schools and even companies undergo an annual changing of the guard called idou ( 移動, move, transfer). According to tradition, most places have a hush-hush policy demanding that their employees keep their job status a secret until the information is finally released in the local newspaper, or until the end-of-the-year party. (This is why, just two weeks before the end of the year, if you ask your Japanese employee where they will be in a month's time, they'll uniformly reply that they don't know, even if they really do).

This nerve-wracking mix of uncertainty and silence can cause employees an unimaginable amount of stress, as one must think about the logistics of the discontinuation of the old job, and any new costs or inconveniences incurred from taking on the new (if any). Not to mention the pressure this would put on any family involved!

But despite all this hassle, people still find a way to press on, as they prepare to spread their wings and fly to new destinies and challenges. The result is one Hell of a bash at the end of the work year! New horizons can always be worth celebrating!

"Belly Dancing with the Bosses" (c) 2008, Gen, All Rights Reserved

 Here's to the beauty of flight and the changes of life! May next year be even better!

Copyright 2014 Genkilee, Gen. All rights reserved. No part of this blog (written or photo content) may be reproduced or reprinted without the expressed permission of the author.

Merry Meetings Atop Mt. Shirataki (Mihara City, Hiroshima)

広島県三原市小泉町白瀧山 Shiratakiyama, Koizumi Town, Mihara City, Hiroshima Prefecture

(BGM: "Levels" by Avicii) 

"Oh, sometimes, I get a good feeling, yeah..."

The fiscal year was wrapping up and I could feel the year-end crunch starting to grate my nerves, wearing me down. Add to that 3 weeks of being laid up with a bad knee and a bad case of cabin fever. Since I needed to get away from it all, socializing was definitely not a part of my agenda for the day. The Hubby knew just where to take me to lift my spirits in beauty and silence.

With the image of Sisyphus in a business suit dancing through my mind, the idea of hiking up the final 50 meters of boulder-studded Mt. Shirataki (白瀧山, Shiratakiyama, 350m) somehow seemed very appropriate. My husband had already done the full 1-hr climb up the mountain several days prior and couldn't wait to show me the spectacular views from the top. Sounded good to me!

New Jizo with Spring Sprinkles

When we left our home, the weather was just perfect; it was a warm day with blue skies and a gentle wind. By the time we reached the foot of the mountain, however, rain began to sprinkle intermittently on our windshield. But looking up, the dark clouds above us were moving too fast across the sky to pose any threat. And the Geiyo islands were still visible all the way to Ehime Prefecture. It was obvious this storm wasn't going to hang around for long. Luck was on our side, today! If anything, the moody weather would only add to the mystical feel of our journey!

The drive up the mountain to the uppermost parking lot was consistently dotted with identical granite jizo (small statues of a Buddhist bodhisattva) alternating one every eighty feet or so, from the base all the way up to the top. The jizo grew progressively larger the closer we got to the parking lot. Since they showed no trace of wear from the weather, I concluded that they might have been recently placed along the trail to compete with the slightly more famous Mt. Shirataki that sits atop Innoshima island with its 500 jizo. Even out here in the middle of nowhere, competition runs fierce.

We were greeted by this friendly, affectionate pup and his two owners, a younger Japanese couple sporting the latest hiking fashions, just wrapping up their climb. They were smiling, looking relaxed and satisfied with their hike. My husband asked them for directions to the viewing platform while I sneaked a photo of their friendly little lion wannabe, who gently licked my hand and accepted a few minutes of love scratches behind the ear. I could feel the introvert in me finally taking a back seat.

Looking a little love-drunk from my attention.

Before embarking upon our ascent, my husband presented me with my very own bamboo walking stick! Most Asian hikers I've seen carry some sort of stick even for the gentlest of hills. Bamboo walking sticks in particular are associated with Buddhist pilgrims and the elderly in Japan, definitely not something a young whipper snapper would want to be caught dead carrying. But they can have their flashy aluminum canes. I've always preferred the biodegradable look.
 
Besides, I'm used to natural. In rugged, wild Alaska, where you're trained from birth to make due with what Mother Nature gives you, we often use knobby black and white paper birch or poplar branches to hike with. Though beautiful, their inconsistency in size and heft make it tough to find a suitable one when you need it. And once they get water-logged, they disintegrate into mushy useless pulp when you least expect it. Not very practical.

But bamboo makes for the perfect walking stick: lightweight, smooth, and strong enough to be used year round in any weather. Their colors range from rich grasshopper green to antique gold and they don't harbor unwanted insects like red spider mites or ants. I especially appreciate how a bamboo stick provides me with a means of self defense should anything go awry on my climb (not that anything would, but you never know).

Nobody better mess with me and my Old Green!

The wind started to blow stronger, gently rustling the tops of the young pine trees lining the sides of the trail. A splattering of five-second rain anointed our heads as if to purify us for the climb. We stuck to the rock side of the trail for safety and shelter from the rain. The trees provided adequate cover, so we didn't need to bother with our collapsible umbrellas. My eyes kept climbing up the mountainside, enjoying the color changes in the rock face -every possible hue between warm, sunny bronze and cool key lime green. I noticed a few cairns (rock stacks) here and there along the trail. Instinctively, without any thought, I picked up a small stone and topped one of them off just for the heck of it.

The concrete trail sloped so gently, it didn't even feel like we were hiking! Every turn promised an awe-inspiring vista that made us wow in delight. The higher we climbed, the more islands we could see off the coast of Mihara, stretching out into the distance as far as Shikoku Island. 

Okunoshima Island (with Japan's largest power tower on top) and the Geiyo island chain.

The switchback trail revealed ever more glorious rock faces. This granite slab in particular with a light turquoise fungus growing on it really caught my attention!

 

My husband suddenly disappeared around this corner and called out my name in excited urgency. "You gotta see this!" he yelled. We were dumbfounded. Japan had done it again, moving us to silence with its incredible beauty.

Mt. Shirataki viewing platform overlooking Mihara Bay. (Photo taken from the gate of Ryusenji Temple).

Moving on up the mountain, we encountered another couple descending from the temple. My husband asked the man in a red Columbia hat if he knew how to access the gazebo by the rocky outcrop. The man looked to his female companion, who explained to him in Japanese sign language my husband's question. I quietly advised Hubby to slow down his speech, since the gentleman could still make out spoken words if he saw them. Eventually, the two were communicating smoothly. 

The kind man glowed with inspired intensity, eyes wide with a passion for life as he described, partly with his hands, the glorious 360-degree panorama waiting for us at the gazebo. He suddenly noticed that I was a westerner and shouted in English "very very beautiful!" We both smiled and gave each other high fives, for what reason I don't know. But the moment made me feel better about people, again.  

By the time we reached the first stairwell to Ryusenji Temple, the chilly gusts had whipped up into a frenzy, tousling our hair and driving icy cold rain into our faces. We hid out under the temple gate a few minutes until the black, menacing cloud curtain finally lifted.

The entrance to Ryusenji Temple on Mt. Shirataki.

New stone marker at Ryusenji Temple, Mihara

Concerned by the sudden temperature dip, we decided to save exploring the temple and upper rocks for next time and proceeded down the woodland trail to the much-hyped viewing platform out on the cliff.

I was awestruck by the rich color contrasts of the pine needles both overhead and underfoot. Whether deep green with living vitality or terracotta red from eternal slumber, in that moment, they seemed to symbolize the profound harmonic relationship between life and death -an endless cycle of which I am a part. Whenever I get out into nature, I can easily remember how truly connected I am to all life around me. But instead of feeling small and insignificant as some people do, I feel the uniqueness and preciousness of my life and the role that I play in other people's lives. I come into nature to experience communion and belonging, never to feel alone.

As we approached the gazebo, the blue sky had successfully dissolved little holes in the cloud cover, letting warm sunshine spill all around our mountain. The view from the gazebo was, well, see for yourself! :-) 

Rainy Day Over Mihara Bay

Time can easily stand still at a place like this. The best thing to do is to simply let it.

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When we finally headed back down the mountain, I noticed this peculiar shrub about as tall as myself, with squared twigs in the most fascinating geometric shapes! I'd never seen anything like this in the Americas! It looked as if it had been genetically assimilated into the Borg collective, or like a genetic experiment gone very wrong.

Winged Spindle Tree (Euonymous alatus)

The winged spindle tree (Euonymous alatus), is a wild shrub native to Japan and other parts of East Asia. It's also known as "burning bush" for its intense red leaves in fall. I made a pact with myself to photograph this intriguing tree throughout the next year to revel in its colorful transformations. Something to look forward to!

Near this serenely meditating jizo, we heard a strange, whiny whistle and a rustle in the bushes overhead. Too big to be a bird, we both froze for a moment and it called out again, high-pitched and nasal: "Heeeeaaaaaaaaann! Eeeeeeaaaaaaaaann!" 

Did you say something?

Thinking it might be a wild boar, my husband urged us to hoof it fast back to the car. But thirty years in the big wild of Alaska taught me that you never, ever run from a wild animal. You either stand your ground, make sure it sees you and slowly back off, or do what most idiots do and try to communicate with it!

"Eeeeeeeeaaaaan!" it squealed again, louder than before. Flipping through the Rolodex of animal sounds in my memory, I finally recognized it! "Shika, dayo!" (Deer!) I whispered. I couldn't see any telltale flash of white rump in the thicket, but I mustered my confidence anyways and called out to it, unable to help myself. I love white-tailed deer!

"Eeeeeeaaaaaaan!"

(Silence)

"Heeeeeeeaaaaaaaann!"  It answered back! It answered back!!

Again, the rustling of underbrush as another deer hidden in the trees moved closer down the mountain to get a better look at us. My husband tried calling out to it, sounding more like a duck than a deer.

"Kwaaaaaaahh! Kwaaaaaaaahh!"

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeaaan!"  it quickly replied.

We were utterly delighted! Maybe this particular herd was bored and in the mood for just about any conversation, or used to the occasional handout from humans. Nonetheless, it was tremendous fun to bond with another lifeform in sound this way, if only for a moment. They kept answering our calls until my husband thought it best not to tease them with food we didn't have.

Hubby started walking down alone while I remained there, straining for a peak at my new four-legged friends. "CAR COMING!" he shouted at me from around the hill.

A Buddhist priest in black robes driving a rickety old white utility truck drove towards me. I stepped to the side and bowing my head, signaled with my hand that he could go on his way unhindered. To my surprise, he stopped his truck and rolled down the window.

"Hello!" he chimed in perfect American English. "Where are you from?"

"It's you!" I laughed with joy, beaming from ear to ear. "I've always wanted to meet you when I first heard about you! You're a legend around here!"

He chuckled aloud, nodding while sheepishly looking down at the floor of his truck with humble grace. We exchanged formal greetings and shared brief stories about our backgrounds. He said his name was "Doiku" （道育）, originally from Pennsylvania, USA, and has been living in Japan for nearly half of his life. It was hard to tell his age by looking at his face; he was beaming with youthful energy, which made it impossible to be guarded or standoffish around him. He looked like he was just coming back from a ceremony or an official event, so I didn't want to keep him long. But he invited my husband and I up to the temple for some tea and conversation next time we were in the area. How could anyone refuse such a wonderful offer? I shook his hand and said it was a done deal. By the time he'd driven off towards the temple, I'd already come up with at least ten questions to ask at our next meeting.

The Friendly and Famous Doiku-Sensei of Ryusenji Temple, Mihara

Life is awesome in this way. You can go somewhere expecting to be left alone and yet come back from your journey completely refreshed from having met the most inspiring people! Each friendly face along the way makes life's burdens a little easier to bear. I know I'll be out this way again for more. Who knew that a small mountain in the backwoods of Hiroshima could be such a great place to meet new people?

Mt. Shirataki Access Information:
Transportation Access:
(By Car): From Takehara City, take Route 185 to the corner of Highway 2 and follow the road signs to Shirataki Yama. But even with road map instructions, it's easier to just use a navigation app on your smartphone and put the address information in the search bar.
Contact Information:
Address: 三原市小泉町４５４３ (Mihara-shi, Koizumi-cho, Postal Code: 729-2361)
Admission Fee:
No fee required.
Available Facilities: Gazebo, picnic benches, toilet (inside the temple)
Other Points of Interest in the Area: Mt. Kurotaki (Takehara City), Usagi Shima "Rabbit Island," aka Okunoshima (Takehara City), Sunami Beach (Mihara City), Mt. Fudekake/Mt. Ryuou National Park (Mihara City)

Copyright 2014 Genkilee, Gen. All rights reserved. No part of this blog (written or photo content) may be reproduced or reprinted without the expressed permission of the author.