Three weeks ago a visit to Shugakuin to see a friend and to check how the spring is progressing up there. It was still grey and perfect, just the way I like my Shugakuin. Rain starts itself and stops us for a smoke under a tree. A silent nod suggests content and though happening in a somewhat hidden place with a good friend, this modest moment is not an esoteric secret. On the contrary it's very much universal and timeless. Thus so strong. Rain wanderings on some Wednesday, in some March of some two thousands something. Nothing special but everything to die for.
Also some memories of birds coming and going by the river. Seeing them I feel I'm ready to go too.
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