It seems another cold front has blown in. Getting my hopes up that the warm streak was here to stay and that spring was in clear sight have been covered over by an intense sky. The cold is just so hard to bare. I’m finding myself impatiently waiting the brightness, warmth, and light of spring. Reminded by the naked tree limbs gnarled in impressive patterns against the passing clouds, the importance of seeing one cycle through to the end before flowing into the next. While nearing the conclusion of one, spending time in reflective contemplation gives rise to wisdom.
Today was my fourth day off and I decided to go to Hirado Island and Ikitsuki Island. Basically, I travelled by train to Sasebo, then got on a different train line to Hirado City, then took a bus that connected from the main Island of Kyushu to a smaller Island called Hirado Island by way of a suspension bridge, then from there took another bus over another suspension bridge to an even smaller island deeper in the ocean. Ikitsuki is small and has mysterious, undefinable, nature. Upon arriving at the bus station, I was given a map. With a car, I presume it wouldn’t take long to drive around the Island. From the photos on the map, the west side of the island has dramatic sea cliffs that are quite beautiful. With only public transportation to support my day adventure, I remained on the east side where it was cold, windy, and green from all the moisture. There is one small street with shops, mainly geared toward the locals, old rusty anchors, the remains of Dutch trading houses, fishing boats, several churches, and remnants of the sea. At the entrance to the city, there is both a castle and an artistic statue of a whale. Ikitsuki apparently has a whaling past L and there are tributes to whales all over the city including a whale museum. Most of the Islands charm requires a car for travel, or a lot of patience and time as the bus runs only every hour and half and there is only one bus coming and going. Furthermore, while waiting for the bus, there is not a lot to do other than sit and watch the sea clouds blow by, the ravens dance in the wind, and bow at the occasional local passing by in a small car.
For such a small little town, my journey did have two large encounters. First, standing at 70 feet tall, weighing 150 tons, made of bronze sits a Boddhisattva Buddha overlooking the town and the sea. It was so large that in the throne it sat upon, was a meditation room and altar. I thought the Buddha I encountered last week was large, this one was utterly humbling. Set against the dramatic sky the giant Bodhisattva made for a nice place to spend part of my day in reflection and silent contemplation. The wind howled and the air drew cold at about the point where I was welcomed inside to utilize the inside altar, where it occurred that above my head sat a 150 ton Buddha and in that moment, I was really quite small. In all truth, we (ourself, I, myself) are one tiny being and are always rather small compared to the greater whole; and with that I sat.
When the time became ripe for me to move as all comings have goings.. I decided to make my way down the hill toward the bus station. On my way I saw a sign that read the treasure forest of Saikyo-ji Temple, and thought, sure why not. Venturing in another direction about 1 mile, I walked up another hill, then up several flights of stone steps surrounded by large, old trees covered in moss, then through a gate, around a corner, up several more flights of stairs, lined with stone statues, vibrant mossy paths, and large, old Bamboo trees knocking together like zen wood chimes blowing in the wind. I climbed and climbed past the main ground which was already up a hill, then up another hill, up and up to where stood a large 3 tiered bright red Pagoda! Considering that once I passed beyond the Bamboo forest, the winter trees were gnarled and bare, the brightness of the Pagoda stood out in a delightful way. Apparently inside the Pagoda is a museum with amazing art, but the grounds, from the very first entrance, all the way to the top, were empty. Not a soul in sight. At that point in time it came to my attention that for some time I had been hearing a flute. I wondered where it was coming from and where everyone was. I remembered seeing a figurine of an old man playing a flute with long hair and wearing a robe lining the railings along the pier, there were also some stone statues of this flute man down by the wharf. I wandered around trying to see where the flute sound was coming from and no matter where I went, it was there just as loud as it was before. If I climbed a hill, it was there, if I went down the hill it was there too. I thought, how mysterious, a deserted temple with a large Pagoda and a magical long haired flute playing man hiding in the bamboo wind chime trees. At that moment in time, the wind picked up and the flute continued, in rhythm with the bamboo, and I stood amidst this empty temple, beneath these old, tall Bamboo trees, this giant Pagoda, and closed my eyes. There is nothing that can compare to the smell of a freshly moist forest and sandalwood incense to accompany the sound of nature. Enjoying a few moments of deep breathing, I could not shake the feeling that I was not alone, and kept looking over my shoulder and turning around, to see nothing other than the Pagoda, statues, trees, and nature. I thought, where is the incense coming from? Where is that flute? Where are the people? However there was no one in sight, and the Pagoda was locked, and all the buildings were closed, and way down at the bottom of the hill, there were no cars, no people, there was no sign of anyone, no sign of incense burning, or an actual man, or a flute, no lit candles, nothing. No matter where I looked, I could not find what I was looking for. It was completely empty even though it did not cease to exist. Appearances can be deceptive, therefore I decided to sit again with all that was and was not… before I realized that time had escaped me and I had only a few moments to travel 1 mile back to the pier where I would catch the last bus out of Ikitsuki to Hirado Island, before making my way back to Hirado City, where I connected to a train that would take me through tunnels in and out through the lush green countryside of Japan. All the way back to the pier, I was accompanied by the flute and the wind. Once on the bus, the song ceased to exist. As the bus drove off, I could see the giant Buddha overlooking the sea, yet I could not see the Red Pagoda buried in the Bamboo Forest, and with that I returned.
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