In the Pines

For details about Shizen - ko and kayak tours please call or visit the website of Ontake Adventure (おんたけアドベンチャー). 0264-48-1208 Some landscapes lend themselves to the aloof gazing of observers. For example, California's Yosemite Valley with its enormous walls of granite, or Japan's Kamikochi , which offers sweeping views of some of the Hida Range's finest alpine cirques, come to mind. Otaki's Shizen - ko 自然湖, meaning "natural lake", is not such a landscape. Rather, its beauty and grandeur come only from patient exploration and observation. The lake invites intimacy and refuses to welcome those who are unwilling to engage it, both physically and mentally. There is no overlook; no viewing from afar. In fact, much of Shizen - ko is hidden behind bends of trees or within vertical canyon walls. The landscape is, therefore, defiant of the insouciant looks of passers-by. In order to gain any sense of it, one must enter the lake and sit directly up...

This photo was taken about a week and a half ago. The paddies in Otaki have been flooded to allow for rice seedlings to be planted. This is known a ta-ue 田植. The process creates in the landscape a set of parallel worlds stacked vertically upon one another. I wonder, sometimes, if one is truer than the other. Rice seedlings sprouted early this year and so ta-ue was also moved up about a week. Residents continue to tell me how unusual this year is. Global warming tends to be the favored culprit as I probe deeper with questions. How will the Otaki community respond to a changing climate? Will it be as simple as planting a week early? How can human members of the community predict some of the changes ahead? What can they do now to prepare? Contemplations sprouting from rice paddies.

Coolness descends as darkness crawls from the valley-bottoms to consume the earth. Storm clouds abate, leave us merry. We drink sake and stumble over river rocks--roar with laughter and stare wide-eyed at stars burning holes in the stratosphere. The world takes on a warm familiarity as I post myself assuredly upon the apodictic earth unwavering beneath my feet. I watch the smoke rise from the fire and realize how fleeting life is. . . . good night Ontake-san.

An April 22, 2009 article in the Seattle Post-Intelligencer describes how the Obama administration's stimilus package will speed-up a project to remove two dams on the Elwha River, located on Washington's Olympic Peninsula. The river used to be one of the Pacific-Northwest's most productive salmon rivers, but the dams now block them from all but the river's lower five miles. You can find the original article HERE . Breaching dams. . .a late modern idea that has taken way too long to put into practice. I've never met a dam I liked, and have a few in particular that I'd like to see come down. 1. Glen Canyon Dam in Arizona, USA 2. Miura Dam in Otaki, Japan 3. Makio Dam in Otaki, Japan It seems to me that humans are smarter than dam-building. If we can engineer things that are as horribly marvelous as dams, we should be able to think of a better alternative to them in the first place. Fish numbers apparently continue to drop in Otaki. . .that's the word f...

While the days here in Otaki have begun to lengthen and warm, the nights remain cold. Stable weather has ensured clear vision of the myriad stars that burn above the village each night. It was on such a night that I joined other village residents at the community center to listen to a lecture by resident historian, Tj-san. Though his oratorical skills leave something to be desired, Tj-san is a living library with the ability to draw forth a bibliographic wealth of knowledge concerning the history of Otaki and the Kiso region. During this night's presentation Tj-san concerned himself with the status of Ontake-san, the volcano that sits above Otaki, as a sacred mountain. He particularly focused on changing perceptions of the sacred mountain as evidenced in guide books and other historical texts. Tj-san's main argument was that a lack of information coming from local residents, whom are intimate with Ontake-san, has caused a conceptual shift, moving the mountain from the rea...

While the much anticipated blooming of cherry blossoms has begun in many parts of the archipelago, here in the Kiso Valley we continue to wait for spring to come. Winter breaks late here in the mountains, usually only after a long bout with the forces of spring—a warm day may be followed by a snowstorm, while a frosty night might give way to a scorching noon-day sun. Care must be taken so that one's body does not succumb to the swings in temperature. . .layered clothing is a must. However, despite this small burden, in Otaki the liminal period between winter and spring is a marvelous time. Warmer days draw resident to their fields and gardens to prepare soils for planting. Excursions into the mountains, where the trees still stand skeletal and leafless, allow one to experience the first flourishes of the year's wild vegetable harvest. Fuki-no-toh (butterbur sprout) are the first to arrive; they hide beneath the fallen leaves of the previous year. In the days to come a co...

It's been a slow winter. . .not getting a lot done. Aki and I have both been working at Otaki's ski hill, Ontake 2240 --me as a lift operator and Aki at a restaurant. Not the greatest work, but we both only work weekends and get free season passes, which leaves plenty of time for playing on the slopes. I've also been working on a paper idea for this year's American Anthropological Association meetings in Philadelphia. My interest is in exploring the idea of "socio-ecological resilience", which I've mentioned in other posts, in terms of its socio-political implications as a device for inclusive and equitable forest management. Not a lot to say about it now--still too early in my thinking--but will post as things come together. For now, back to the slopes. Lastly, Happy death day to Cactus Ed. March 14th, 1989 DOWN WITH EMPIRE, UP WITH SPRING!