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On such an innocent trail, even there, the spirits lurk.
Sundays have always been the time for the droning of a lone airplane, passing overhead outside the window.
When I read The Lord of the Rings as a teenager I often walked in the woods and imagined the denizens of the books hiding behind tree trunks and boulders.
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When I lived in Naruto I would go on very long walks. One place that would bring me peace and make me feel less lonely was this quiet nature reserve about 20 minutes walk from my apartment.
I hardly ever saw anyone in this area. So few people passed through that the egrets and night herons and grey herons relaxed and settled down here to roost. I would sit for hours listening to their calls at night.
People often talk of their secret hideaways when they were kids, but seem to think they are unnecessary when we get older, but I think such places are even more important as adults. They help center us and soften the harshness of everyday life.
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A different tack, back in the city, into the heart of gods and fate.
I’m not sure how I would feel with all those strangers and tourists taking pictures of my wedding…
Dusk fell and the gate guard began industriously shooing us out.
No matter how many times I turn up at them, many shrines have a way of instilling great peace.
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I began to see spirits in every nook and cranny.
I was on a ghost walk… but the truth is that it was raining so hard and the air so humid that my lens fogged up at this point. The rest of the trip was taking pictures through a mist…
…and though I was irritated at first, I began to have fun seeing everything in a different way.
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Walking here reminded me of my walks with my grandfather in the hills east of Hannover, Germany where I was born.
This was just beyond a rope gate along the trail…though there was no one there I had goosebumps as I passed through, feeling there was someone watching and that in the area beyond the gate some dangerous creature haunted.
Photographs of flowers in the mountains can seem cliche, but as the trail got darker I welcomed the bright color.
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One of the strongest memories I have of childhood in Japan is little paths like this in the mountains, where I spent days catching insects and watching birds.
Who says plants can’t jump out at you?
As the rain intensified a feeling of foreboding crept into the walk. I felt as if a minor god was watching me.
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It doesn’t matter how many times I walk a trail, I am always moved by what appears at every turn.
It’s the moving through the places that keeps me enthralled.
A good photograph lights up more than the camera lens; there is a sense of pulling back the curtains and being bathed in the morning sunlight.
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Spring brings all things bright green and replenished.
You spend a lot of time looking at your feet when you go for long walks.
Trees are great big hands grabbing clots of earth.
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Your heart begins to sing when the road leaves the earth behind.
I wonder how trees feel about being pruned all the time?
When you live on top of a hill do you dream of being trained to reach still higher?
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Trees do move; you just don’t see it.
In the wind, they creaked.
In Tokyo, sometimes I wish for the mountains so much, that distant clouds turn into mountain ranges.
Laughing Knees 