Aenigma

The other day I went to Nashinoki Shrine (梨木神社, nashinoki-jinja) in Kyoto with a friend of mine, a little shrine perfectly hidden on the east side of (the outside of, bien sûr) the Imperial Palace. I literally would've walked right past it had I not asked a woman passing by where it was. It was concealed underneath a fairly dense set of bamboo trees, and the entrance was quite narrow, as though the shrine never anticipated welcoming touristy foreigners. But inside, the shrine was a world of its own. The flowers on the shrine grounds didn't need the outside world's sunlight to bloom in full splendor. There was a walkway leading to the south gate lined with these flowering bushes that created the most serene picture my eyes have taken recently. Did my mind have to be serene too かなあ。。。(I wonder)... in order for the picture to be serene?

I wonder how many people are coming here in part to ease their minds. I don't know whether I did. I wonder how much Japan can help that.

We passed by the grounds surrounding the Imperial Palace. Abandoned. Nobody was there. It was quite a change, if for just a moment. I showed Huey the boulangerie (bakery; in Japanese パン屋/panya) I passed on the way to meeting her, and let me tell you, Japan needs more bakeries, because they do baking right, if at a little bit of an expensive price.

We walked down the river "to get water at the 100 yen store," but I think both of us just wanted to walk down the river. It was beautiful, utterly cool. Man, Kyoto's air is so much better than Boston's, in quality, at least. But if you opened a bottle in Boston, closed it and sent it for me to open over here, I bet that the pleasure that I would feel if the scent of Boston trigged memories of home, Tufts, and Boston would be significantly greater. Still, it was great to talk about that and then sit down and watch the fish jump to no avail against the waterfall created by a slight dam in the water. We strolled down further and saw a homeless woman and all her possessions in order next to the river. What does she do when it floods? I wondered. Then, I looked back, and the mountains in the background had suddenly grown in size. I observed this out loud, and Huey reminded me of the fact that the further you get from something, the more you want it; the bigger it looks.

We finally reached the 100-yen shop, and after that BOOK OFF, where I got a CD by the European dance artist Neja, who provided Boston with the hit "Back 4 the Morning" that Star 93.7 played until Star 93.7 ceased to exist. The CD didn't have that track on it, regrettably.

30 minutes later (I'm a slow shopper), we found a restaurant called Ootoya and got some delicious, cheaply priced food. Huey took pictures. My taste buds were pretty happy, and we returned home on the limited-express train from 三条駅(Sanjou-eki, Sanjo station). I waved goodbye, つかれた(tsukareta, tired), and biked home slow.

What's missing from this post?