Welcome back to Japan

I have returned after one year and have decided this blog needs some love. Arrived in Narita last night and am getting ready to head north to Sapporo this evening. The only things I managed to leave behind in Boston were Mark and Skylar. They have been promised that, next time, "they come too." Will chronicle here the adventures from the next twelve days between Tokyo, Sapporo, and dear old Kyoto. Stay tuned.

Fall colors at Hanson's Farm

The New England fall colors are spectacular this year. Hanson's Farm is especially beautiful. Here are some scenes from the farm this past week. Qamis has been enjoying the trails and the views behind the farm. (Those are her pointy black ears in some of the frames). How odd that while a couple of wild turkeys send her into a complete panic, she doesn't bat an eyelash at the sight of all the tombstones, ghosts, and spooky shacks that are part of Hanson's Haunted Hay Ride.

Little Big Planet--a Poem by Skylar

A pebble is like a human.
It has a world.
It has a life.
And it has a goal.

It's almost like a sailboat.
It moves swiftly and calmly every time
a gentle breeze comes
to pick it up,
and help it
on its journey
to the unknown.

Its life is like a sad paradise.
It has everything it wants
except a companion
and a longing for a purpose.

A pebble's ancestor was probably a rock.
And the rock's ancestor was a boulder.
If you stare at it long enough
it seems now that it has no life
but it seems so real.
It's indestructible but so fragile
and delicate at the same time.

Pebble.

Back home in New England with scared horses and evil turkeys

This is a picture of my horse Qamis.















This is a picture of a wild New England turkey (a.k.a., Meleagris Gallopavo).

Today, while riding Qamis along the corn fields at Hanson's Farm, we spotted a flock of ten wild turkeys who were peacefully walking from the fields into the woods. Given how rigid Qamis became when she spotted the terrifying spectacle, they might as well have been an army of evil demon birds sent from the gates of hell to take her home.

Note to self: Horses are sweet animals with very little brains. On past rides, the only other objects that have filled her with fear and terror have been piles of neatly stacked logs that randomly appear in the woods. Perhaps they remind her of the time when prehistoric jumbo serpents attacked Equus Complicatus? Go figure.

Anyway, it's good to be home and wonderful to go for (what should have been) a peaceful, leisurely ride through the woods.

Kotooshu is Number One (at least to us)

Just in case we left you hanging. . . Kotooshu did not finish anywhere near the top at the recent Nagoya Grand Sumo Tournament. We lit incense, we tossed coins, we said prayers, we threw salt, we even stopped watching when he was on TV. In short, we tried everything to reverse his bad fortune in the dohyo but a Mongolian bulldozer by the name of Hakuho flattened every opponent he met at Nagoya including--on the last day--our Bulgarian cream cake. Kotooshu may not have finished number one at the tournament, or second, or third, or fourth . . ., but let it be known and proclaimed to all that he is "ichiban" to us.

The Profundity of a Rock Garden

Mark, Skylar, and I paid tribute to Ryoanji Temple to see the beautiful zen rock garden once again. (The last time we saw it was seven years ago. Mark remembered that Skylar sat quietly as a three year old gazing at the scene). The Ryoanji rock garden was created over five hundred years ago after the violent Onin wars which leveled this city with fire and destruction. Whoever created the rock garden remains a mystery--as does the ultimate "meaning" of the 15 rocks that are arranged in groups of five, twos, and threes across a sea of white pebbles. If you were to take away even one of the rocks, the entire composition would fall apart.

When you first confront the rock garden, it appears so much smaller than you think it will be given the gargantuan nature of its reputation. It is considered one of the great masterpieces of Japanese culture--a kind of rock garden cultural equivalent of Michaelangelo's Sistine Chapel. There are 15 rocks in all--but from any place you sit and look, only 14 rocks are visible at any one time. How the designer accomplished this will leave you mentally spinning. They say that when you reach true enlightenment, the 15th hidden rock will reveal itself to you.

When we arrived, there were relatively few people at the temple (very odd for a late summer morning). So we three sat, gazed, and contemplated the meaning of the rocks and the meaning of life. They say that every individual has his or her own interpretation and experience of the garden.

Afterwards, while sharing my experience of the rocks, I told Skylar that I had a distinct impression of rocks floating on the sea. He responded, "that's so predictable." In fact, he added, "that's what all the brochures say" and defied me to come up with something more original about the 15 rocks he claimed he could see--with perfect vision.

Bad Senryu Poems of the Day

(Elena)
At Ichiriki tea house,
I stalk and gawk at geisha.
Gion geek.




(Elena)
The fish at Kappa Zushi
go round and round and ride
the shinkansen.




(Skylar)
She has lots of gas.
As the time passed,
I sniffed the air and whoa—
a flare!