2014: Taganogawa

Dear Friends Around the World…

Recent River Walk – Early November 2014
Cool weather has arrived making it ideal for a stroll along the Taganogawa a few minutes from the house. This is one of my very favorite morning activities and lately I was rewarded with a string of noteworthy encounters. One of the attractions at this time of year is the cherry trees. Of course, they are renown for their blossoms in early April laden with pink and white blooms. But they don a special beauty in the fall with the shades of red, orange and yellow drenching the leaves. The trees on the east side of the river are the oldest, perhaps a 100 years old with extended horizontal branches stretching over the walking path while those on the west bank are much younger but are of the double blossom variety. This is the time of a deep red glow seen on both sides of the river.

A somewhat scruffy individual who had his breakfast arranged over the stairs blocking the steps descending to the riverside path. I was forced to take a slightly more risky gravel lined route with the essential aid of my walking stick. This was not, after all, his private venue. Later I discovered it was his motorcycle that also blocked the path.

Further along, two thirty-something guys were settled in on separate benches on either side of wide steps intently reading what seemed like English language study guides, which I have seen on numerous occasions. It was prefect symmetry.

Under a pedestrian bridge a young fellow with orange shoes was diligently practicing his trumpet. Scales were heard at first, subsequently something more challenging.

A mature woman was arranged on a stone bench set into the stone wall long the path. A guitar was in her hands, sheet music arrayed before her and a tablet alight within easy viewing. She was playing softly accompanying her vocals. I hesitated to linger too long, interrupting her privacy, so I was not sure of the song.

This stroll along the river with its abundant bird life plus surface glitter from the sun hitting the waves and ripples had a climax most unexpected. I was resting a bit leaning against the stone wall soaking up the bright, warm sunshine. Along came two university-aged young men with a plot in mind. One, “the actor”, was dressed in a bright yellow body suit with hood. After removing his red hoodie he scampered down the embankment and stretched out on a concrete ledge dead-man style some distance above water level. The other, “the videographer”, with camera at the ready started by panning the river from the level we shared. Then he headed down to the level of Yellow Man, nearly experiencing a fall that might have resulted in a dunk in the water, which is very shallow. But he caught himself just in time and turned his camera on Yellow Man, still prone on the ledge. He held the camera on his subject for some seconds. Then they both scampered up the embankment, Yellow Man donned his hoodie, and as they quickly departed I gave a polite nod of recognition (I was not sure of what) but that seemed appropriate under these circumstances.

Greetings from Kyoto,
Glen