Friday, April 15, 2005

JAPAN (Kobe) - Cherry Blossoms, Mountain Shrine and Wild Boars

Shortly after arriving here in Kobe and unloading my stuff, Prof. W took me hiking up to the top of a mountain overlooking the city. The path leading up was lined in the soft pink and greens of cherry blossom trees heading towards the end of their short-lived blooming period.

Hokura Shrine, which sits atop the mountain, is surrounded by an array of ancient trees. According to Prof. W, this collection of trees provides a glimpse of the way Japan's forests used to look before the trees that grew naturally in Japan were replaced by the endless homogeneity of the man-made cedar forests which cover most of the landscape today.

Standing beneath the trees, looking up at their tangle of branches and curiously shaped trunks that contrast so starkly with the uniform straightness of cedar forests, I could feel something, a power emanating from these trees. The idea of kamisama, nature deities, made sense in the presence of these trees.

We stopped to pay respects at the shrine



(check out them bow legs, partner. Yeehah)

After passing the shrine, we continued a bit further upward, turning back only after it started to become dark. As we passed the shrine on the way back down the mountain, the sound of something being rooted up came from somewhere within the trees.

"Inoshishi," said Prof. W.

Wild boars.

The two of us became quiet as the rustling sounds drew nearer.



Out of the blackness of the woods came one, then two, then three, four, five inoshishi. A family. It was surreal. I felt like I was in the opening scene of "Princess Mononoke."

The boars wandered by less than a few meters in front of us. Unimpressed by our presence, they continued on their way looking for their evening dinner. And then they were gone.

We continued on our way back down the mountain. I took this shot of a cherry tree and the night lights of Kobe down below.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

From a distance of a few thousand miles, the inushishi are such cute 'little guys', although I'm sure up close they probably leave one with one with the desire to do something other than chuck them under the chin and pat their heads (like, be quiet until the procession of stately pigs has passed). Your description of the moment of encounter took me back almost thirty years when I had my own encounter with the magic of nature in Japan's forests. Thank you kindly.