The Air & Autumn

Today is the first day that it really feels like Fall. Not that we haven't had some cooler  temps the last week or so, but today has that hazy faded warmth feel with a slight hint of decay and burning leaves. The wind barely moving with the crows calling out to each other. It always fills me with a bit of melancholy, possibly left over from the days of the start of school and the realization that nearly a whole year would have to go by before the freedom of swimming and fishing would fill my days.

I guess it also signifies that our time here is ending soon, and that brings a new layer of thought, that a lot of things are perhaps "the last". We've started to make an exit strategy, going to do some packing tonight, and Keiko has made a list of the things we want to do or need to get done before we leave. It's just all a bit depressing really. Not that I'm not looking forward to my home and dear friends and family in Amsterdam, but I've gotten quite used to this slower life, where my biggest worry is how I'm going to get the laundry dry without the sun.

It also doesn't help that I've caught some stomach bug and am generally not feeling in top form. But it's no worries, went to the dr today and got some good strength intestinal flora stabilizers. So I have high hopes that I will not spend the last of my days in Japan eating only broth.

I will say though, that I was quite looking forward to watching these mountains change color but they are still mostly green. So I've asked a few questions and as it turns out, most of the trees here are cedar which are coniferous. Kamiyama was a logging town, and the local government recommended the farmers to grow cedar as it was popular to build houses and furniture. When the market crashed in the 50's, the tree farms were ignored and took over, squeezing out other species. It's also believed that they're substantial need for water has drained the river from it's former size which is quite obvious as you look around at the banks.

We're now really making a point of taking lazy afternoon walks along the narrow windy roads through the little concentrations of farms dotting the mountain sides. The rice has all been cut, the persimmons hanging plump from the trees, fields and fields of radish and potato, perfect rows of sudachi lime trees clipped of their fruit and abandoned structures left to slowly decompose with the will of the winds. Kamiyama means God's Mountains in Japanese, yes it really does feel like god's country.