Japanese Sea Glass:
Being from Maine, I tend to both idolize and take for granted the strange trash-to-treasure jewel that is sea glass. I've grown up with it, so it doesn't bother me that broken beer bottles, worn smooth by the waters, litter the beaches. Instead, I tend to think of sea glass as the discarded shell of some sort of sea creature. (Honestly, I grew up with horseshoes, razor clams, and the pearly interiors of mussels-- it never struck me as odd that a citizen of the deep could possess a beer-bottle exoskeleton). However, unlike many landlocked folk, I also think the stuff is absolutely beautiful; environmental conscientiousness aside, I would be quite sad if people stopped dumping their broken glass into the ocean. This is admittedly selfish, but sea glass is one of man's mishaps that has created something beautiful.
Anyways, While on my bike ride, I decided to walk down the beach of Biwako. I came across many chips of dulled sea glass (technically lake glass)-- however, I came across many more pieces of sea ceramics: chips of dishes adorned with pretty designs, family crests, and domestic poems. Honestly, I was moved-- growing up in Maine, I'm used to the Anglo influence. Yankee seaglass is green, brown, white, and, very, occasionally blue. The source is generally a beer bottle or a medicine bottle. In Japan, sea glass is often rosy pink, aqua, and, in many cases, hand-painted ceramic bits of discarded dishes. It was both comforting and unsettling to chance upon the sea glass. Water-smoothed glass is a similarity Brunswick and Hikone share. However, in this similarity there are touchingly beautiful differences.
That bird, which you can barely see, is an eagle, eating a fish it had just caught. I didn't want to get too close because it was bigger than me when it stretched its wings.
A rock opposite a shrine. Possibly one of the most aesthetically pleasing things I've seen in a long time.
Lakeside view.
The Bamboo Grove:
I know bamboo grows like a weed, but it has always held a special appeal for me. Needless to say, when, on my bike ride, I happened upon my first bamboo grove, I was very excited. The roots grew as thick as my thighs, and reached the highest trees. Now, if only there were pandas frolicking around Japan...
I have no idea what this is, other than it is some sort of shrine. I have a hunch it's very sad, or very strange. If someone well-versed in Japanese shrines could tell me, I'd be delighted.
Rice Paddies:
Obviously, these are not that special in Japan. However, like any Mainer, I can appreciate the beauty of a dutifully kept agricultural landscape. Moreover, white cranes (which are annoyingly hard to photograph) tend to pick through the rice paddies. They're really charming birds: they just kind of stroll through the paddies, eating up whatever floats around in the rice fields.
The Shrine:
The best part of my bike ride was my discovery of a hilltop shrine. It was really accidental-- I was looking at the previously posted rock and wondered if there was a nearby shrine. I turned around and was met by a very ordinary looking clump of old buildings. When I peered a little more closely, I realized it was indeed a shinsha (yay for finally memorizing that kanji). When I stepped inside I discovered a really beautiful, and totally deserted, space.
Where you can purify your hands and mouth.
Altar and main building.
Another view of the stonework.
Gates to the altar-- there were butterflies everywhere when I walked through.
The three altars on the top part of the complex.
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