
With the temperatures still cold outside, it’s nice to see this small plum branch blooming in the kitchen.
家の近くで、古い団地が新しいマンションに建て替えられています。Garden Residenceという英語の名前はありふれていると思います。
A large parcel in my neighborhood is being excavated for a new housing project, called “The Garden Residence.” Who doesn’t like gardens, but couldn’t they have come up with a more unique name? I am curious what landscape will be visible to the neighbors.
The laundry line in our Tokyo flat is ever present, in the middle of the garden and directly in view from the kitchen table desk. Whether decorative or not, the laundry line is a porous border between inside and out, home and neighbors.
My handkerchief collection now includes the Bulgarian Kotooshu, one of the longest serving ozeki sumo wrestlers, as well as Asashoryu, the Mongolian yokozuna forced out of the profession a few years ago for bad behavior. Given the function of handkerchiefs, perhaps it’s not the most appropriate form of hero worship.
柿の木と昭和時代風の窓は、大雪の下で魔法にかけられたように見えます。
The Showa-era home and its old persimmon tree I always pass on the pedestrian path look magical under thick snow.
Ishii-san’s garden is interesting in every season. Here it sits under heavy snowfall. His white camellias survived and were still flowering when the snow melted.
I am a bit of a shut-in during winter, but there’s something exciting about leaving the apartment lobby and entering fresh snow. It’s a solitary thrill.