Five of us met, carefully masked, to walk the eastern section of the Kyoto Circuit Trail, from Fushimi Inari to Keage. With an end to the lockdown in sight more people were out, but the approach to Fushimi Shrine still quiet.
… Sparrow-meat stalls* … closed by the Virus: … sparrows celebrate (Tito)
Japanese visitors shared friendly, if slightly cautious, smiles as we walked through the shrine grounds.
… Vermilion-faced foreigners … trooping down … the wrong torii tunnel (Richard)
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Climbing past myriad shrines, fox statues and altars to the gods, we wound our way over Mount Inari.
… Known to steal even … the shrine’s lighted candles, … crows in a spring wood (Tito)
At Sennyuji we passed through an area of many imperial tombs, including the grave of Komei. His son, the Emperor Meiji, penned the following:
⽉の輪のみささぎまうでする 袖に松の古葉もちりかかりつつ Tsukinowa no misasagi mode suru sode ni matsu no furuha mo chiri kakari tsutsu … Here at Ring of the Moon Cemetery … I visit the ancestral tombs … and onto my sleeves … ancient pine needles … are falling, falling*
For a while, we skirted the edge of the city before climbing onto the hills that rise above Kiyomizu Temple.
… treetop birds — … even their laughter … keeps a safe distance (David)
The day ended with a visit to Himukai Daijingu, the Sun-Facing Shrine, a source of holy water that once helped to ward off a ninth century plague.
… At the foot of Himukai Shrine– … a white cockerel* … clucking under my caresses (Richard)
Notes:
*Fushimi Inari is famous for its stalls selling grilled sparrows;
*falling pine needles indicates early summer;
*cockerels are sometimes kept at Shinto shrines dedicated to the sun goddess, Amaterasu.
On Mar. 31, in spite of the corona virus scare, three Hailstones (of eight solicited) did actually hike about 14km of the Kyoto Circuit Trail between Takao and Arashiyama, much of it beside or overlooking water – Kiyotaki Stream and later Hozu River from the gorgeside trail on Mt. Ogura.
The mountain cherries were coming into bloom. Packed lunches were eaten on a huge rock in Kiyotaki Stream. Two of the hikers managed a few haiku, a flavour of which is given below. Once the virus subsides, we hope to do some more of these not-too-vigorous hikes together, next time perhaps on the Higashiyama hills.
…………… Almost vulgar …………… the azalea hillside’s pink — …………… where Kukai’s brush* was thrown ……. (Tito)
………………………… as I wait ………………………… for tomorrow’s storm ………………………… the mountain burns with flowers ……. (David)
. . ……. Waylaid ……. by watching red camellias ……. floating down the stream … ……. (Tito)
………………………………………….. girls in masks ………………………………………….. taking selfies — ………………………………………….. how deep the valley ……. (David)
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* Kukai (774-835), the founder of Jingoji, Japan’s first Shingon Buddhist temple, threw his brush, already dipped in ink, from one side of the valley to the other, where magically it wrote the name of the new temple on a plaque. Or so the legend goes!
The Snow Kukai event held on March 8th turned out to be a very pleasurable afternoon. 14 poets gathered in the gorgeous pond-side setting of Shusuitei villa in Kyoto Gyoen to share and discuss snow-themed haiku submitted by no less than 24 different people.
David McCullough won first prize for his snow haiku. With 8 votes, it proved the most popular of those entered:
snow falls softly
onto the river —
last train passing by
Runners-up, both with 6 votes, were:
endless snow… …………………………………… Excavated remains —
I break the froth ……………………………….. into the postholes,
in a cup of cappuccino ………………………. snowflakes …..(Yaeno Azuchi) ……………………………………(Keiko Yurugi)
Next, two poems that received 5 votes:
daybreak… …………………………………………. In the freezing rain
the muffled sound ……………………………… an old man living alone
of a raging snowstorm ………………………. picking peach blossoms …..(Duro Jaiye) ………………………………………….(Yoshiharu Kondo)
And 3-pointers:
silky snow ………………………………………….. Lunchtime strollers
left on old tree — ………………………………. squint into the sun’s glare —
the clouds begin to break …………………. first snow flurries …..(Akihiko Hayashi) ……………………………….(Jun Tsutsumi)
a morning of the cottage
everything with snow —
a straight track by a tiny hare ….. (Teruko Yamamoto)
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Poems that got 2 votes were:
oh no ……………………………………………………. snow vanishes…
snow in the deck-chair again ………………. as though an hour ago
insisting it’s winter ………………………………. never existed ….. …..(Ann Mari Urwald) ………………………………..(Branko Manojlovic)
Twilight Venus
over the mowed garden —
the first snow ….. (Kiyoko Ogawa)
Poems with 1 vote were by: William Sorlien, Tito, Hisashi Miyazaki, Hiroko Nakakubo, Ursula Maierl, Kyoko Nozaki, and Eiko Mori. Alas, we didn’t have enough time to talk about these.
The event was well organized by Yaeno Azuchi and Tomiko Nakayama. Tito introduced the kukai, using snow haiku by Shiki, Meisetsu and Issa, and later gave the prize, a handmade Indian book for writing haiku. Branko Manojlovic debuted as discussion coordinator. He came up with the following haiku written during a tea break:
Still pond
touched by sunlight —
sharing snow haiku
morning vigil ……………………………………………….. snowfall so gentle
a sprinkle of dew …………………………………………. covers a lifetime so far
splashing light …………………………………………….. light shows the way
Bamdev Sharma, Kathmandu ……………………… Ann Mari Urwald, Denmark .
firefighters’ endless …………………………………….. a poppy
reeling, damping down, de-crowning — ……. on the table
jargon and swearwords ………………………………. his empty chair
Hamish Nicholson, Canberra ………………………. Joanna M. Weston, B.C. .
Is it a fire? ………………………………………………….. getting cold –-
No, only ………………………………………………………. even mossy ground
A dazzling ginkgo ……………………………………….. wears a leaf futon
A chilly November morning (23rd), and the first three Hailstone haikers arrived at the rendezvous site – cosy cafe Coccolo in 明日香 Asuka. Our haiku hike had had to be postponed for a month due to the intervention of Typhoon Hagibis, but summer was slow to surrender this year. Cracking the spines of our notebooks, we penned the weekend’s first haiku in a nearby park.
rustle rustle rustle … …………………… tree’s stalwart green heart
falling leaves hitting ……………………. battling the grip of autumn…
the colored branches below ……….. losing .. Akira Kibi………………………………………William Russell
After lunch, now with the other seven poets, it was into the Kii Mountains for a trek through みたらい渓谷 Mitarai Gorge, where the Yamagami River has carved a breathtaking ravine, now crisscrossed with footbridges.
between two roads ………………………. Water gushing though
a field of pampas grass – ……………. Tapestry of autumn leaves –
colours I’ve never seen ……………….. The remains of the day .. David McCullough…………………………..Kyoko Nozaki
With the fading of the sound of the rapids and waterfalls behind and of the daylight above, we reached our stop for the night at 洞川 Dorogawa, a hot-spring village lined with traditional Japanese ryokan inns and bathhouses, many of them frequented in season by yamabushi, mountain ascetics.*
rising into the sky
the sound of my wooden clogs –
lured by orange lanterns .. Shigeko Kibi
Dinner, drinks, baths and poetry were enjoyed before an early night, as we had a long day to come.
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The next morning, we rose to take on 稲村ケ岳 Mt. Inamura (1,726m), with the mist still clinging to its sides. 6 poets ascended the peak, slightly higher than neighbouring Mt. Ōmine, and open for both men and women to climb.** Meanwhile, 4 poets stayed in the valley, visiting caves, 天河大弁財天社 Tenkawa Daibenzaiten Shrine, springs and temples.
It was curious that the trailhead we sought that morning began at a temple called 母公堂 Hahakōdō (“Holy Mother’s Hall”). Ozunu’s mother, Shiratōme, had once come here from Katsuragi to try to find her son, and a vision of Amidha Buddha had appeared, assuring her of his safety but also warning her not to disturb him in his austerities on the mountain. Yet it is on the path leading up from behind this temple that women are presently allowed into the mountain to practice their own austerities.
On the climb, we walked through hushed ranks of cedar trees, clung to chains on rocky ledges, found rhododendrons amid the wintry deciduous woods higher up. At one point, we froze at the piercing call of an unseen deer. Everyone pushed themselves for four or five hours … and, thankfully, made it to the peak. From there, by drone, we were able to view the sea of clouds around us from an aerial vantage point (see video below). What would En no Ozunu have made of that?
Acorns … …………………………………………. my walking stick
celebrating their birthdays ………………….. all the way
all over the place ……………………………………… to the summit .. Tomiko Nakayama……………………………………Duro Jaiye
This color ………………………………………… No breeze
Squeezed from sky and earth, ………. no water
A colored leaf falling ………………………. no sound, .. Miki Kotera………………………………….. only withering ……………………………………………………………..Tito
Descending,
the cedar forest dims –
moss, electric green ..Kazue Gill
Eventually, tired and silent, we made our way back down into the autumn colours again, past the spring Gorogoromizu, to rejoin the valley walkers for a final sharing of the day’s experiences and reading of our haiku: hot coffee and fresh persimmons in a small cafe in Dorogawa. We parted ways in afterglow as dew began to fall.
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Notes:
* 山伏 yamabushi are the white-robed followers of the 7th century mountain priest, En no Ozunu, founder of the 修験道 Shugendō religion. They descend on Dorogawa every year during the late spring and summer to take part in rituals and mountain training.
** 大峰山 Mt. Ōmine has the Ōminesanji Temple on its summit. It is situated on a training route for the yamabushi and is one of the very few World Heritage sites where women are not allowed, an ancient taboo unbroken to this day. Women can climb Inamuragatake instead. .
Summer exhibition —
the folks assemble
dressed in blue-and-white …..(Tito)
On 18th August, a scorching day, a few Hailstones got together for an art exhibition 真夏の芸術祭 held at Galerie Aube inside Kyoto University of Art & Design, where one of our members, Yoshiharu Kondo, was showing his creations. There were about 100 pieces on display; the majority, paintings. We walked around, each person choosing one or two favourites:
A school of ceramic salmon —
an Ainu Upopo, now sung
at the art festival …..(Yoshiharu)
Dandelion seeds
enlarged in the painting …
he fears they might assault him
at night! …..(Keiko)
A big brown pot —
written right across its body
in replicated characters,
“Seven Gods of Good Luck” …..(Yoshiharu)
Cinnamon background;
the dark-amber skeletons of
Chinese lantern pods …..(Ursula)
Pleasingly, we all fell in love with Yoshiharu‘s two pieces, a ceramic tsubo-daiko and a handmade storybook featuring his own haiku and tanka.
Summer, in the shade —
A bisque-fired drum
Resounds through the hall …..(Mayumi K)
Clear Moon —
in his poem,
a villa for his students
who’ve passed away …..(Keiko)
Glad to report that the subsequent mishap that befell one of our number has now resolved itself!
Calling and calling
my lost cell phone —
no reply …..(Ursula)
I read aloud the original 19-verse Roller Coaster sequence from the Icebox as a contribution to an international haiku meeting held in Ljubljana, Slovenia in early September. I had not been expecting a further episode, but Kansai was again badly hit by natural disaster when, on Sep. 4, Typhoon Jebi (No. 21) blew through, our strongest storm for at least 25 years. I have here collected some of the recent haiku written by our Circle as a kind of extension of our summer 2018 ‘roller coaster ride’. Thank you to our members for sharing them. .. (SHG)
STORM (9)
last sunflowers —
they stand to attention
facing the typhoon
signboards and roofs
plucked into the air —
the autumn gale ……………………………….. both, Mayumi K.
mountains crumbling,
rivers flooding,
the typhoon, past —
anyone alive? ……………………………………. Michiko
after the typhoon —
over wet tree bark
inches a white snail ………………………….. David McC.
a derelict garden —
that large, loaded kaki tree
toppled by the storm
after Jebi
sweeping up our alley:
in the debris
a gold thread …………………………………….. both, Sally
five days after
the terrible typhoon
the old tree, still
propped against my roof …………………… Yoshiharu
crimson spider lilies
stand erect by broken trees —
that stormy night! …………………………….. Ayako
oh, moon in the sky!
above our patient town
of blue tarp rooves ……………………………. Teruko
The Kansai region of Western Japan was hit by a damaging earthquake (mag. 5.5) on 18 June, then by a monsoon-ending deluge on 5-7 July, and has been gripped by a severe heatwave ever since. 19 July saw 40 degrees C in Kyoto. The only respite in temperature was the typhoon of 28-29 July, which was cruel in its own way. I compiled a haiku sequence from recent work by 15 Hailstone poets in order to commemorate the fearsome summer we have had so far. You’ll see that haiku poets find ways to ‘coast’ between the ‘rolls’. (SHG)
QUAKE (4)
morning birdsong
in the monsoon garden:
epicentre
right beneath my pillow! Hisashi
35 floors up
an earthquake rocks
and rumbles –
it clutches my heart Sydney
summer earthquake –
ground spangled with glass,
sky full of stars Mizuho
after the tremor
healing my unease,
the fragrant white gardenia Hiroko
RAINS (9)
broken muzzles
of the shrine’s stone foxes –
the rainy season returns Yaeno
gray rain-screen,
a fear of floods …
yet a kingfisher
blesses the pond Teruko
endless rain –
in our entrance hall
a large garden spider
now resides! Tito
to this land of
green ears of rice,
the Thunder God’s
long siege Hitomi
helicopter hovering
by people on a rooftop –
never-ending rain Kyoko
a village
obliterated by the rains –
a cicada’s chant Mayumi K.
the rain eases …
along a path between paddies
coloured umbrellas move Takashi
jumping into the puddle
with his tiny boots on
the wrong feet –
the rains let up Hisako
monsoon away –
new sunlight on the girl
in the red coupé Akira
HEAT (6)
leaving for work –
the heatwave,
no longer air at all
but wall Tito
crimson coins of blood
on the bike park floor:
the heatstruck lad
clasps his nose Ursula
on the fence
two turtledoves out of breath …
sagging grasses Branko
fierce sunlight –
a bitter gourd hanging down
like Godzilla’s tail ………………………………………….. Mayumi S.
the brook at my feet
murmuring away heat –
the mountain peak ahead Akira
the sun beat down …
but, slowly now, enjoying
the long night wine Hiroko
Takahama-Ōi 高浜町ー大飯郡 district of Wakasa Bay, Fukui Pref. We travelled there and back in three cars.
Nov. 11 (Sat.) – a clutch of nine poets congregated on a day of autumn showers: the six men scaling the heights of Aobayama (693m) for five rigorous hours, while the three women enjoyed the more sedate pleasures of the mountain-foot herb garden. The evening culminated, at Loghouse Akioya, in a rollicking poetry reading of the day’s experiences, that some haijin of earlier centuries might surely have related to.
Nov. 12 (Sun.) – the following morning, as the sun came out, we composed further haiku near the site of Takahama Castle and the eroded arch of Meikyodo beside the Japan Sea’s pounding surf. Two cars then drove over to Ōshima on the leeward side of the Ōi Peninsular, where a harbour stroll was had.
Here follows a selection of our poems, in rough sequential order, with each poet represented.
greeting five hundred
invisible bears
between Kyoto and the sea ………………………..Ursula
empty forest —
one bird sings
to the steady rain ………………………..David McC.
here
at the edge of the world
all things are covered in gold —
the sound of bamboo grass
rustling ………………………..David
tangle of grasping roots —
frozen struggle
of a mountain-top tree ………………………..William
a friendly hand
wet from rain
pulls me over
the abyss ………………………..David
at our first proud summit,
the faded clipping:
“Old Man Climbs A Thousand Times” ………………………..Richard D.
somewhere through
this mountain’s heart —
the sea, crashing ………………………..Tito
slippery path:
our feet swallowed
by coloured leaves ………………………..Branko
long legs
short legs
three legs
arse slide ………………………..Tito
descending Mt Aoba,
light rain turns to hail:
a whispered goodbye ………………………..Richard
two claps, two bows:
imparting to the god
my full name
and postal code ………………………..Branko
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between this world and the next —
a gateway framing sky and sea ………………………..Tomiko
by the slack silver harbour
a fisherman offers me his rod —
I catch his smile ………………………..Tito
a globefish
dances around my float:
its tantalising orbit ………………………..Tomo
acorns scattered
all over the herb garden —
immune from the nuclear plant? ………………………..Kyoko
raucous poets —
hold the pickled mackerel,
pass the persimmon liqueur! ………………………..Ursula
autumn mountain jaunt —
honouring my ursine name
with bear-like sleep ………………………..Ursula
*slideshow photos by Tito, Branko, William, Richard & David
Bringing to mind
both classical
and modern tales—
two persimmons …………………….Mizuho Shibuya
29 Oct. 2017 – in the grip of yet another typhoon, 27 poets gathered at Rakushisha in Western Kyoto to celebrate the launch of our latest anthology, ‘Persimmon’, a collection of haiku by 60 poets, a haibun by Sosui and two rensaku featuring stanzas by multiple authors … and more besides. Rakushisha is known in English as ‘the House of Fallen Persimmons’, and its former owner, Basho’s disciple Mukai Kyorai, once ironically referred to himself as a kakinushi, a ‘Master of Persimmons’.
Having stacked our umbrellas and shed our waterproofs and soggy shoes, Richard Donovan welcomed us and proposed the kampai toast. Stephen Gill then explained how the book came about and thanked those who had assisted him with its production and with the happy launch itself. The persimmon is both homely and transporting (柿は心を和むと同時に別世界に連れて行ってくれる), he pointed out.
Later, we conducted a short kukai using a section of the book, entitled ‘Calendar Says’. It was won in absentia by Nobuyuki Yuasa for the following haiku: …. Petals are all gone … …. time for me now to enjoy …. blossoms in my heart ……………………Sosui
Runner-up was Branko Manojlovic with: ………………………………….. Hideyoshi’s tomb– ………………………………….. nobody sweeps here .. but the April wind
The rain and the wind kindly abated to allow us a much drier journey home, albeit through puddles and under low, black, scudding, twilight clouds.
The book has 152 pages and costs ￥1,300 ($12). Details of how to order have been posted on our Publications page.
