More than 10 years ago I was slicing a grapefruit it half with a kitchen knife.  I don’t recall exactly when.  It may well be more than 10 years.  There was really nothing unusual about it until i looked inside one of the halves.  There, imbedded in the grapefruit’s flesh was a seed that had already sprouted.  I had never come across a seed that had sprouted inside a citrus fruit.

I took this as a good sign, and I planted in a small pot.

The plant grew and grew over the years.  I gradually transferred it to bigger and bigger pots in a nice sunny place on my Tokyo patio. For years, there was only growth.  No flowers.  No fruit.  Just some oddly shaped grapefruit leaves.  Perhaps two years ago three blossoms appeared on the tree only to be swept away by the strong bay winds.  I was ready to give up on the tree and chop it down.  I thought that after all these years perhaps this tree was just infertile and would never bear fruit.

This all changed this spring.  When the nights began to warm and the new green shoots were sprouting forth, that is when I noticed the little white bulbs.  Not just in one section of the tree as they had been a few years ago, but they cover the tree. The white flower’s sweet scent filling the air as I water the garden.

As spring will quickly become summer I pray that some of these flowers will hold on with all their might and transform themselves into fleshy grapefruit but that is greatly out of my hands.  I only tend the garden.  There is only One who can do that.

I am truly thankful that I waited and waited.  Now I can enjoy the sprouted seed from all those years ago from that halved grapefruit.

You have to let your nose be your guide, or at least that is what I did.  That sweet fragrance of the the unmistakable kinmokusie ( 金木犀) drifted into my nostrils right before lunch.  My stomach was rumbling wanting to be nourished, but the scent drew me in.

As usual I had no idea where the scent was coming from. I knew it had to be pretty close by.  I wandered around for a bit, and to my astonishment, there were three of the largest orange sweet osmanthus I had ever seen.  The tiny blossoms were bursting all over the trees.  The trees were peeking as I strolled under their branches.

I noticed the the earth had begun to be dotted by them.  Little orange specks were scattered around the roots of the trees.  These little orange drops of fragrant dew had done their mission for the year, and sat patiently on a bed of green ground coverings to seep back into the soil.

The dew has begun to fall, another sign of autumn, and another signal that the crisp air will gradually dip closer and closer to freezing.  For now, I am content just being able to witness such a seasonal sensory festival of aroma.

Civilizations spring up along fertile rivers in the middle east and Africa.  The water was the fuel that gave the settles the needed life-force to survive without wandering.  The rivers would overflow their banks once a year and deposit their black gold.  The black gold would be rich with nutrients to maker their cereal crops grow.

As man’s dependence grow on the life giving waters so to did he attempt to regulate them.  To be able to guide where the rivers would overflow, or protect themselves from the ravages of the rivers after man began to live so closely to the edge.

Earthen works were constructed to keep the rising waters at bay.  They thought they had the technology to keep back the rhythmic cycles of nature.  For a time the works were successful, but eventually the levee would fall into disrepair and collapse.

Civilizations still build these levees.  In fact there is a huge earthen one within walking distance from my home.  Do I feel safe with them in place?  I feel only somewhat protected because I know no matter what man builds nature can always take them down with a blink of an eye.  The levees may be overrun in flash or they could crumple under the weight of debt.

Have no fear, it is not the levee that protects I, it is the love that does.  Let the blossoms bloom over the levees let their roots wiggle between the cracks in the cement and cover their surface with purple blossoms.  Have no fear.

This Friday was gorgeous.  It all and all  a perfect spring day.  The sun shone so high in the sky that I had to roll up my long sleeves as I took an afternoon stroll.  The dust and pollen filled my nostrils with every breath, but it didn’t matter.  The day soothed my tired body.

Tokyo is on the other side of the cherry blossom peak.  That is when the trees have reached  past their full bloom and now are beginning to shed their pink petals like a snow flurries.  The petals flutter down from the canopies above and dust the ground in their pinkness.  It is a really magical time of year.  A time that seems like it is snowing yet the weather is warm, and the flakes are neither moist or cold.

Wandering through a small neighborhood park I came across some mothers and their children enjoying the last days of the cherry blossoms.  To be so thankful that the winter is over and that we all know the blazing heat of summer is not that far behind.  But I am getting ahead of myself.

Let us pause.  Take a moment to enjoy the sensation of the ever drifting pink petals.  Fluttering in the wind and landing around our feet.  We will have time enough to attempt to keep cool in the long humid days of summer.

I know I have Miami blood.  I can get used to the cold weather here, even if that weather is never that cold, but I don’t really love the weather in the winter time.  I dress fro it.  Wrap my neck in a scarf, pull gloves over my fingers, and double up on socks.  It helps, but I still feel cold.

I spotted this little one the other day as I was walking through a quiet Chiba neighborhood.  Still amazed at how many flowers are actually in bloom, considering it is just about the end of December.  Here she was rolling its tint petals in on themselves trying to keep warm just like me.  Turning its head towards the sunshine to keep all of its petals warm, just as I love it as I ride the train and the sunlight flickers as we zoom past the concrete shapes of Tokyo.

Just being myself, trying to keep warm.  Bundle up everyone.

The air is crispier today that yesterday.  On my way in to the city you could see a faint Mt. Fuji off in the distance behind the ever looming Sky Tree Tower.  These are some of the signs that the seasons are shifting gears.  The air is clearer and we can see the mountains that ring the Kanto Plain.  I was actually felt a little nippy in the morning with just a windbreaker.  But, the sun came out and the day quickly warmed to a beautiful temperature.  A temperature that I felt at comfortable in in short sleeves.

As I was making my way to the station, I kept getting whiffs of a sweet fragrance.  The fragrance was so sweet to my uncivilized nostrils I thought it was some overly sweet candy.  That is what is smelled like, candy.  My reason returned and I knew that it could not be candy and their must be something in bloon that was giving off such a super sweet aroma.

I wasn’t able to answer the question what it was until I just about had reached my house.  There was a bushy tree that was covered with teeny tiny orange blossoms.  The blossoms could have been no more than 5 mm in diameter, yet their fragrance was unmistakable.  The sweet smell of autumn that drifts through the open window and across school children’s paths.

Orange

Little

Powerful

Blossoms

Sweet

The sun played a game of hide and seek with the clouds today.  The bright sun shone down upon the earth for a while, then darted behind the clouds as if it were a shy Japanese child.  The temperatures were on the cooler side today. A sign that this long summer is going through a transition.  According to the Japanese way of counting the seasons we have already moved into autumn.

This sunflower was deciding whether or not to bloom.  It felt as if it were holding something back.  Could it be aware that the long days have shortened, and that the leaves will soon be turning into autumn hues?

I don’t know.  But I sure enjoyed watching the dance.

Blooming Bottlebrush trees always reminds me of my youth growing up in Miami.  The blossoms would come out and a green tree suddenly becomes red.  That yellow pollen that are on the individual needle points would just get everywhere, but it didn’t matter we loved the ones that were at our houses, and on our streets.

Today I saw one on my way home.  I remember seeing it last year too.  I actually got too close to it last year trying to get a macro photograph that I got yellow pollen on my lens.  This year, I got close.  Not close enough to touch the pollen, but close enough to reveal a bit of the inner beauty of the Bottlebrush tree.

Such an unusual flower.  Nature is truly full of wonder.  I am amazed by the variety and the ability for nature to thrive.

These are just Jacob Schere’s Bottlebrush memories.

Each day seems to be a bit warmer than the last.  If you stand in the shade or aren’t in motion the air is still rather dry and cool.  However, as soon as you start to troop around you quickly realize that it isn’t that spring like anymore.

The early spring flowers that signal the coming spring, have faded, and those early summer buds are now blooming.  All of the fauna are richly green as they reach for the sun.

I have recently been feeling those phantom quakes.  I don’t know if they are real, or only in my head.  I suspect they are mainly in my head.  At least the day of rest is upon us.  It is time to take a pause, reflect, and be thankful for all things.

The weather yesterday was gorgeous.  The sun was bright.  The air was cool and dry.  A slight breeze was blowing through town.  I was thinking to myself how beautiful life can be if you only take the time to enjoy it.  To open our eyes to the world full of pain and sorrow to see that there is beauty in the living world.

I have continued to be completely obsessed with observing the spring.  All the colors that dance with in my sight at every step, anywhere I go these days.  The flowers are survivors.  They are thrivers even in the most difficult of situations.  Their roots reach down and squeeze in between the cracks to seek out the nutrients from the earth, as the colored petals open up to receive the sun’s rays.

It wasn’t until I got back to the station and hopped on the train that I checked the news on my cellphone.  The top story was Osama Bin Laden has been killed in Pakistan.  I had no real emotional reaction to it at that time.  I felt kind of numb.  I felt no joy in the news.

I read through the story and still felt not much of anything.  I wasn’t surprised.  It was as if i was saying to myself, “Ok, now what?”  After the news sank in a bit I began to wonder what is this going to mean in our lives.  Are we truly going to be safer.  I think now.  Now that the number one evil doer in the world has been killed, I thought to myself, what are they now going to use as the poster boy of evil?

I was sadden to see the young Americans out in the street rejoicing in the death of someone.  Even though that someone in no way was a good soul.  My heart tells me that rejoicing in the demise of someone else is just wrong.

I began to think about these young people.  Most of them were of the college years.  They were just children when 911 happened.  They know nothing than what the media has been feeding them over the last 10 years.  In the words of my friend Jerry Kolber It saddened my heart to see them “celebrating as if we had won the world series of baseball!”

We, as human beings, should celebrate LIFE, not death.  Life is worth living.  Life is worth more that all the billions spent in the name of war.  We should celebrate life, the happiness in our lives.  The color and joys that fill up our days.  At the same time we need to be vigil and remember the great incalculable cost to kill one man.

So I choose life.  I will celebrate life, not death.  We cannot let hatred rule our lives, because hate will only breed more hate.  Love can conquer hate, but it is the more difficult way.

For me the flowers and their hues are life.  I celebrate the joy that they bring to my heart.  Let your hearts be open to love to dispel the hate.

One Love

from Tokyo