WiK Essay for March 2016

I am hanging up the laundry on our veranda. It conveniently faces south.

I see the large forest of the local shrine; others’ laundry waving to mine; new leaves beginning to open on the trees in our garden below; a fat wild cat sunning itself on a neighbor’s roof; moss covering a tile roof nearby.

I hear the nightingale calling for a mate; children playing in the pre-school grounds; the overloud speaker of a newspaper collecting truck; distant sirens; a door closing, then opening again; something falling from a tree.

I smell flowers of early spring; freshly washed clothes; rotting wood of the abandoned house next door; somewhere upwind an early lunch is being prepared; moist mud from last night’s rain.

I feel the sun penetrating my body down to still frozen bones; the wind moving thru my hair; my hands hanging up soft, damp cotton towels; the touch of spring on my face.

My soul tastes all of this Kyoto atmosphere. More reasons to love hanging laundry up in a late morning.