Maple Sugar

A rare public display of affection under the autumn maples. Denenchofu, Tokyo, November 29, 2009.

Watching parents and kids interact tends to dispel any remanent, subconscious notion of a "unique uniqueness."

Tamagawa mizubenotori

For the last 2 years getting close enough to the egrets or heron along my part of the Tama River has been getting more and more difficult.

Not only are the birds very wary of both humans and their dogs, the habitat has changed. The river has been high enough that it almost always covers the small basalt island behind the homeless camp where many of both species---along with cormorants---would spend much of the day.

There are a few other "islands" which are slightly isolated from the majority of human/canine interlopers where the birds can get a little peace, but last summer one of those "sanctuaries" disappeared. It disappeared not because of nature, but because of man. I spotted a fellow damming up part of the river and thought perhaps he was doing it to catch fish. I wondered if it was legal to do so, but I suppose that it makes no difference.

The "dam" that he built has now been built up to the point that it has become a bridge to the island, resulting in it becoming a playground for parents, children, and dogs. Frankly, these folks appear to be either unaware of, or have absolutely zero concern for the pitiful remnants of wildlife there. Contrast that with some of the older guys I meet in the early morning who seem to know every species of bird along the river as well as the details---to the point of trivia---about the history of the river itself.

This egret was first one I have gotten within 30 meters of in over a year. Amazingly, it hung around as two families with dogs off-leash came down to where I was photographing and began running, screaming, and throwing rocks in the river. It wasn't until one of the dogs crossed the "bridge" to the island and came up behind the egret and started barking that the bird wisely left. So did I.

A windy New Year on Fujisan

A friend of mine who fancies himself an outdoorsman of sorts often asks what I do when I go to the mountains. I have found that if I have to explain in detail to someone what I do when I hike or spend time outdoors or why I like to do so, they'll never understand anyway.

N-san has climbed Fujisan twice and has been after me to do so too. "Why?" I asked the last time we debated it. "Because everyone is supposed to before they die," he replied. "Why?" I asked again. As much as N-san tried to convince me that climbing Fujisan in the summer with about a gazillion others on the same trail was a wilderness experience, he was unable to do so. I have no desire to ever climb Fuji, unless it were in the closed season. And I can probably live without that. I don't understand N-san's fascination with climbing Mt. Fuji any more than he understands mine with less populated places.

This was taken from Tamagawadaikoen on January 2nd. I avoided the group of 10 or so waiting to photograph it from the quasi-official "view" spot and went further into the park where I knew I could get a clear view and a photo somewhat different than the others of today.

It was windy on old Fuji today, as it always seems to be in the winter.

Nice bike

I love these old buildings which seem to be disappearing from many parts of Tokyo---or maybe it's just from my area. I have taken so many photos of this building and the small noodle restaurant, Eh-Wan, that the cops at the nearby police box are becoming familiar with me.

Taken in Yukigayaotsuka, Tokyo.

Wha'cha doing?

Folks in Tokyo are not especially well-known for open friendliness toward strangers---especially when the stranger is non-Japanese.

However, sometimes when I am out with a camera, people who would normally never approach me will suddenly become very talkative. Usually they are older people, but occasionally even the munchkins can't resist:

"What are you doing?" he asked as he rushed over to the spot where I was taking photos.

"Taking pictures," I replied.

He watched me for a few seconds before running over to stare at the scene, apparently wondering what was so special about the bike that I'd be photographing it.

Seseragi Park

The momiji--Japanese maple trees--are finally at peak color in this area of Tokyo. Taken on a nice cool Sunday morning which was a welcome break from the unseasonably warm weather we have had recently.

Neighbors chatting

While I was taking this, an old lady came up to me and said in English, "Old house." Then, apparently exhausting her English---or her patience with it for the day---she asked in Japanese, "Do you know it's a tatami shop?"

I did, but I was happy that she asked. Older folks often come up to me and talk when I am taking photos, something that ain't so common on other occasions in Tokyo.

Something to sing about

or not. She seemed to be enjoying herself on her walk through this part of Denenchofu. Maybe it was the end of the hot, humid summer?

Sprinting for the line

Well, for the red light which had already turned red before he even started.

There has been a well-advertised cycling boom in Tokyo over the last year or so. Now many have taken their "mama-chari" riding "skills" (??!!!) to road bikes at higher speeds and the number of accidents has been increasing.

At least this fellow was not on the sidewalk...

That's an old tailor shop he's passing.

After school

Students practicing lacrosse on the Tama River.

Last days of summer

A relatively cool---for Tokyo---summer is coming to an end. That means flu season will be here early this year.

Tama River, Tokyo side. Shinmaruko in Kanagawa prefecture is in the background.

Summer break

School will be back in soon. Not sure many kids wanna see that.