signs of spring

 One last stone for the January road...

this wind wraps around me
a dark and icy coat
the lining filled with
memories--failures past
worries present

I shake it off.
I will not suffer it
it is not who i am now
Spring is coming
I will dance bare-shouldered
in her hopeful petal showers

solar power

sun reaches in
through bars of
winter-bare trees
spilling into
yellow puddles on
ground

i stand still
face up
eyes closed
arms raised
grateful,
charging

Fire in the sky

or at least smoke...

sound we could not hear
battering the window panes
fitful toss and turn
knowing that in the dark
to the west and above us
was a monster


We are safe from the bulk of the ash and the drama, but nevertheless it is a bit disturbing to see a massive, black cloud that reaches from the ground and keeps growing and growing across the sky.  It was dark well before it should have been and the bits of ash dropping on the windshield made me think of Pompeii. The "sound we could not hear" is the sound waves that are sent out from an eruption. They rattle the windows and shutter like no wind could ever do. It feels like some creature from a horror film trying (successfully) to unsettle us so we will go outside an take a peek.

from my office window

 

glide and flap
the branch sways

in his beak a strip of foil

clever crow boy brings home bling
for his newly made girlfriend

poor worms...

egrets stalk a bright blue tractor
their snow-white feathers stark
against the rich brown soil

on the bridge

today I am
loving
the stomp and thrum
of my new
boots
striking the
rough worn planks
crossing
the river



I have new boots. I am Wonder Woman. I can fly.

eventide

sunlight slants
shadows lengthen
time to breathe
out
and
in

time to go home
to head for
hearth and the
heart
that
waits
there

Evening is my favorite time of day. It is not as luscious in the winter as in the summer, but it is still my favorite. The world seems to slow down. Every care, every hassle seems to disappear for a while.

Maybe I love it because of all the good times I had as a kid playing outside until being called in for dinner. Maybe I love it because for such a long time I worked from 3 to 9 and never got to see the sunsets--so I don't take them for granted. Whatever--love the evening.

snowbirds

swallows winter here
lithe and swift
they skim the surface of the river
fierce and joyful
bane to insect
balm to my heart

jumper cables

feathers glistening crows watch us from their premium seats
cawing and rocking their amusement
heckling the fumbles of our human performance




The dead battery in a friend's car (the nongmobile!) prompted this stone. But I must admit the crows in Miyazaki are a bit scary. We caught one at the beach going through a girl's bag while she and her boyfriend were distracted just a few feet away on the sand. It had removed pretty much everything including her wallet. The kites at that beach are equally dangerous and famous for stealing the sandwich out of your hand as you attempt to put it in your mouth. No eating and walking at Aoshima if you value your hands and face.

already longing...

Still January

the plants on the window sill
are dull
their pale leaves
despair
the wan winter light

seashells
lie there too
hard, round circles of
hope
and sweet memory
of a far away season

Can it just stop being winter already?
I have chilblains on two of my toes. It is my fault that I do, I know. Someone stole my good, winter hiking shoes off my front porch--sheesh! Seriously! And I have been hiking for the past two weeks wearing winter socks with summer shoes. Bad Julia. So, the toes are angry. Never fear though, relief is coming. I got a new pair of Keen boots--oh beauty in brown and tan. They are wide and warm and will protect my poor little piggies. And from years of chilblains in this blasted country (which has such issues with denial about how cold it actually is in Winter and what measures should be taken to insure that houses are not the same temp as the out of doors). It is highly unlikely that anyone who reads this will ever need to know this, but OTC sore muscle rub (like Ben Gay) works wonders. Thought I'd share.

Rip Van Winkle Afternoon

yellow light dapples the trees
its warmth
full of falsehoods
lulls us
so we linger
on the meadow's moss carpet
a little too long

shadows spring up from the ground
catching us
chasing us
off the mountain

forcing us
back to the cold truth
of January's calendar


We have been hiking again. I don't care if people think "that's all you do".
It is a cheap, healthy way to spend a winter day. I miss the ocean and being able to snorkel or ride our SUP. But I am all for "make hay while the sun shines" and as this place is full of mountains and we are fit enough to walk in them, so we hike. We tried out a new peak today. It was a (another) ridge climb through a swath of natural forest. It was pretty, but also depressing. Depressing because most of it was a silent, almost dead forest. It was full of trees, yes, and there were a few birds here and there, but there are no animals--no squirrels, no mice or foxes or other little creatures to look forward to. There are wild boars. The startle and scare us occasionally, but we usually don't see them, only know they exist because of all the tilling they do along the trails. There are also wild monkeys. They live in pockets around the gorge south of our city and it is always fun to hear them and see them when we walk. I am so used to seeing rabbits and chipmunks or squirrels when I walked in the States that it is a bit disappointing to not be able to see them here.

the new david and goliath

Political Machinations

25 years it took for low dose control to be allowed
--less than a year for the blue pill to pass government muster


The Story Continues...

i wish for all the women who are out there and struggling and for those who are no longer with us.
i wish that we could help this woman find her stone and cast down the goliaths in her way.

comfort

Welcome Home

chicken soup and just made bread
greet us from the kitchen
as we brush off our coats and the cold
at the door


(in praise of my slow cooker and the bread machine
who do the work while we play)

my ritual too

we are pilgrims for one day
doing the yearly ritual.

we follow the path down, down to
where the sea beats these cliffs

we walk with ghosts on stones
1,200 years trod for this same purpose

we pass the stalls--
their bright colors and
tempting smells will wait

we wash our hands and mouths,
enter the cave.
standing before the bright red box
we throw coins with holes in their centers.
we shake the bell, clap the gods awake
and pray for a good new year.

My grandmother's family were Jewish.
On the other side--waspy Protestants.

I am who I am, but
will take all the blessings I can get
from whichever gods may be
watching over me.

Are we there yet?

One for the river--

only the eerie creak of trees joins us on the last leg of our windy winter hike


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


today was a good day.
my calf muscles are not in agreement with that statement, but they will get over their aches soon enough. It was sunny and in the lower 50s (about 12 degrees C) and so we braved the wind and went over the mountain and through the woods.

It feels so good to get out and to move. I feel so trapped and get cabin fever so easily in the winter.

We have been hiking a lot lately, finding the connections between the local trails. it is so very, very nice to have solid 4 to 5 hour hikes within 20 to 30 minutes of the house. Today we followed the trail in Kaeda gorge to the turn off at the cold water sulphur stream then hiked switchbacks for a bit till they led us straight up to an amazing ridge covered with tree roots and moss. The walk was blissfully endless. Sounds insane, I know, (and I admit to thinking "whose idea was this anyway?" at several points during the climb), but now, drunk on homemade Chinese for dinner and endorphins, I am feeling like it was a wonderful idea and Shuji just said "why don't we go back tomorrow and try that other trail--the one where we are not sure where it leads to?"

We'll see. it may rain tomorrow, or be too gray and windy--not a day that calls for us to come and play. Anyway, tonight I will rest well and bask in the memory of the sunshine that filtered through tree tops blessing us with its warm rays and even waking up a few frogs while it was at it. I may make it through winter yet.

One for the road--

I heard you, was taken by surprise--mistook you for
some larger, more dangerous beast

in the still, the wait for the rustle or charge
your croaky voices gave away those
dark hidey places

did the tease of today's
sunlight
call you out to play too?

white eye

tiny pale green birds
white-eyed acrobats
dazzle us with daring feats
among the camellia blossoms