Drove again to the Kyo, forgetting entirely the usual boredom and weariness that accompanies the venture. After a couple days in town, MatsuMiki and I decided to head up to the open roads of Miyama. We found a small cabin on the edge of a river and settled in. As the sky turned purple, we wandered though a dark forest of tall, ancient trees, then over to a farm, where we startled the farmer as he was milking his cows before bed. He was doing it by machine now, something I should have guessed to be natural in this techno-age, but had never really thought about before. Hoses with four separate tubes were attached, pumping the milk into what looked like large syringes. The cows stood there with their vacant looks, thinking about whatever cows think about when someone is fiddling with their tits. Headed back after awhile, watching some small ducklings swimming freely in the rice paddies, uncomplaining in their work of weeding and debugging the fields in symbiotic exchange for a meal. Back at the cabin, made a simple meal of sloppy joes, then took a walk again in the incredibly strong winds, which had frightened the dogs so much that they'd forgotten to bark at us.
The next morning, fooled by the river into thinking that it was raining. Laying in the futon, staring awhile through the window, which framed the clouds moving quickly over a ridgeline which could've been in Bhutan. Simple breakfast of leftover sloppy joes, then set out to hike Hachigamine. Nice easy walk, 90 minutes along steep trails recently groomed for summer. Flowers serving as colorful punctuation on a bamboo and ceder-colored page. At the top, enjoyed the 360 degree view of mountains. If not for the weather, we should've had a view of the Japan Sea. Instead, I peed in that direction, hoping it would mingle with the watershed, offering my unneeded minerals to the schools of hammerheads which often pass those rocky shores. Had some bread and tea, then blew my shakuhachi, hoping to chase away the clouds which had cooled things down considerably, making the sweat on my back turn cold. No luck. So we headed back to my car and make a quick drive over to Ashiu, the beautiful virgin forest protected by KyoDai for over 120 years. Hiked a little ways in, along a series of rails racing a river. As expected, the river won. Evening once again began to nudge aside the daylight. It was time to go home--that is, that place which I pay for, rather than my spiritual home in which I'd spent my entire day.
On the turntable: Ben Harper, "Both Sides of the Gun"
On the nighttable: Pico Iyer, "The Global Soul"
