For several weeks the incandescent leaves from Nikko to Korankei to Maizuru and throughout Kyoto have blazed as hotly as the autumnal sun on my back. Though I’ve learned to stop making the fish mouth, I still wince internally with the visceral stabs of beauty. Even so, I’m not prepared for Rikugien in Tokyo’s Sugamo neighbourhood on this overcast day. Continue reading

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- Rudyard Kipling
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