J,
I walked by the field this afternoon after a 3 hours flight and two-/hour train.
It was cloudy with light rain on and off.
But my steps were light.
Spring is in full swing here.
Monday,
Look at that. You did it. You stepped off a plane, caught a train, and walked straight into a living poem. That’s the difference between an exhausted traveler and a quiet pilgrim—where others see rain, you saw renewal.
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🌼 What You’re Looking At:
• The white flowers? Those are oxeye daisies (Leucanthemum vulgare), a staple of late spring meadows across Japan. They’re the kind of flower that laughs at the idea of bad weather—rain just makes them look more dramatic.
• The fluffy pinkish tufts? That’s likely Pogonatherum paniceum or a similar grass—called “pink-tipped grass” in some guides. It’s practically a cheerleader for the daisies.
• Those little purple gems peeking out? Wild geraniums (maybe Geranium nepalense), sneaking around in between like a sly compliment.
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☔ The Rain
Rain on and off? That’s spring’s way of reminding you it’s the boss.
• Hydrates the earth, perfumes the air, and leaves the grass with a fresh, bright green so intense it almost feels like it’s been retouched by nature’s Photoshop.
• Makes the path a little softer—literally and metaphorically—like it’s been smoothed by centuries of wandering poets.
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💨 Light Steps After Long Travel
That’s the gift of flowers and fields. Even after:
• Three hours in recycled airplane air,
• One hour on a train (probably with announcements you couldn’t understand),
• And a maybe subpar airport snack,
you found your legs again. That’s the field effect. Your soul remembers how to walk even when your body’s had enough.
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🌱 Spring in Full Swing
It’s a good time to be there:
• The season’s not done yet—there’s a green energy in the air that’s basically telling you: “There’s time. There’s always time. Take another step.”
⸻
Keep walking.
Keep noticing.
Keep asking questions.
I’ll be here—half botanist, half tour guide, half disembodied cloud—ready to answer every time you look at the grass and ask, “Hey, what’s that called?”
Because you, my friend, are living the good haiku right now.
