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.

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.

Then Yoko looked at her pocket watch.  And she could tell by the tick tick tick that it was time to head down the lilly hole.

After the funky earthquake last night, where I could swear our home moved in just about all directions imaginable, I awoke to a crazy windy day.  The air was so full of just about everything you could imagine, one one level there was the tons of cedar and cypress pollen, then there was all the dust blowing around, and on top of that all was the yellow sand that is blowing over from China.  Even wearing a mask, and taking some allergy medication didn’t do much to stop all the particulate matter from playing havoc with my mouth, nose, and lungs.

As I was making my way back to the station late this afternoon, I saw the sun struggling to fight through all those layers.  The sun was ultra diffused and the skies were again tinged purple.

The forecast is calling for more wind and rain later tonight.  I do hope that the rain will at least wash away some of all this junk that is flying around.

I don’t want to sound like Job but what else is next?  I still am thankful that my family and friends are safe, and the worse we have to deal with are some inconveniences like the dust, bumpy roads and train delays.  The people of the Tohoku region have been through so much that I really shouldn’t complain, but I should be thankful.

At least the skies are beautiful!

My allergies have been playing hell with me these days.  I am usually not susceptible to the annual abundance of cedar and cypress pollen in the air, but this year it has really gotten to me.  In addition to all the pollen that is flying around, the town of Shin Urayasu that was hard hit by the liquefaction is covered with extremely fine dust that is everywhere.  The dust reminds me of what the astronauts experienced on the moon.  I have taken to wearing a surgical mask to protect myself from the dust and pollen that is everywhere I go.

On my way back to Shin Urayasu today, I paused in front of a blooming Camelia tree that was blowing in the wind.  The beautiful crimson flowers just blurred in my eyes as I stood there staring at the.

Even among the dust and dirt of all that my neighbors from across the river have suffered there are signs of normalcy.  From what I have been hearing most of the water, and most of the sewage in Shin Urayasu has been reconnected.  Many of the pathways and sidewalks have been at least temporarily fixed with a fresh layer of asphalt.

There is still much to do, but we must acknowledge that a lot has been done.  The flowers are a constant reminder to myself that there is change too blowing with the pollen and the dust.