Monday, September 21, 2015

Ahead of the harvest

10-minute walk to the Katsura River.  There is rural Japan.  Japan from 100 years ago.  And I imagine, Japan 100 years from now.  Farming is labor and the coming and going seasons.  That's it.  The knowledge, part instinct, part technique passed down from generation to generation.  This is mom-and-pop agriculture.  By hand.  It is brilliant colors, contrasts.  Beginnings and ends, life and death.  A wonderful mélange of organization and chaos.  Neat rows and impossible tangles.  The farmer is a master of reusing and repurposing materials.  Nothing is wasted.  Small fires burn what can't be used over.  The air is pleasantly scented with this smoke.  It lingers in the fading afternoon light.

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