OOMA GOOMA just as tranquil as pink floyd is this hilly northern suburb of tokyo. at kayoko and george's invitation, which we gladly accepted, ellen and i head off for guma country. we desperately needed a change from the intensity of tokyo's urbanosity. and the change was intensely welcome.
this is a roadstop on the drive up the hillside. this is famous statue of local racoons (tanuki) presenting food and sake. there was a dark shape which nearly tripped me up. perhaps it was the spirit of the statue which i nearly stepped on in ignorance.
on a solemn note, there is a japanese tradition, ohakamairi, where you go back to the grave of a loved one on the day of death in order to offer gifts and prayers. kayoko's uncle had passed away one year to this date, and so they were visiting their aunt to pay respect. a moment of silence for those who have passed on before us... gone gone far gone far beyond gone... om.....
close by, there is a temple which is named something like "the rock path". i found this buddha statue irresistable
to kiss on the forehead. i did it in reverance, perhaps, again my western sentimental ignorance, but i meant no harm. on the grounds of the temple, there is also a grave yard but there are no pictures out of respect for the quick and the dead. the scenic country side lends itself
to meditation and quiet contemplation. even out here in the middle of nowhere, the structures are beautiful and well kept. we each in turn tried our hand at ringing the bell. perhaps i ought to have offered a prayer of thanks. ah, westerners. what can you do?