We’re sleeping with open windows.
I had my first ice cream of the season a few days ago.
Summer festivals have started. Here in our neighbourhood the streets are lined with cheerful paper lanterns in preparation for a major festival two weeks from now.
You can see face cloths everywhere, and business-suited men have started wiping their faces. This morning, although it’s coolish, I felt myself perspiring as I walked due to the increasing humidity. Time to pack my own face cloth.
This morning I had the misfortune of clicking on a link entitled “Japanese tree worshippers”. That’s what I am: I love trees, and I believe any human being who fells a centuries-old tree should suffer at the very least the amputation of an arm.
Japan has been hyper-aware of trees in the last few days, because it’s the tail-end of the cherry blossom season. Tokyo was covered in popcorn trees until a few days ago.
So I clicked. Would that I’d never done that. It’s a lunatic who thunders that the Japenese are sinners who worship trees instead of the one true god, that Japan should repent, that the one true god is a vengeful god yadda yadda yadda.
My message to the one true disciple of the one true god: while you indulge in hatred, condemnation and ignorance, I’ll go sit underneath a cherry tree and thank Japan’s 8 million gods for the beauty they’ve given us.
Perhaps I should send a tweet to @TheTweetOfGod and ask him if he’d like to join me. I suspect he might appreciate the invitation, especially if I tell him there will be champagne.