No one is alone in the woods

Dear Anyone,

Want to climb an easy and cheerful type of mountain? Let Mount Hinode be your smart choice.

Start with a train ride west out of Tokyo, and watch the signs change from metal to wood. Eat roasted mochi on a stick with chestnut soy sauce in the nostalgic mountain-climbing machine while you change into hiking shoes. Marvel at all the old people around you. You will see layers and layers of elegant, straight cedar trees. Don't wonder where all the underbrush went; just be glad someone is keeping the place tidy (is it God?).

Arrive late in the day, so that when you reach the top of the mountain, no one will be there. Hold still and you won't hear a sound, nor feel any wind. Look all around you. There's Tokyo, and over there are some handsome charcoal mountains. The cedar trees are marching stiffly below you in uniform. Realize you're neither warm nor cool, and that there are no creatures in sight. But see a crow.

Evening will descend around 4:30 pm in the mountains, and the cedars will block out what light remains. Be on the lookout for 12th-century bandits as you strain your eyes for wayward roots.

Land safely nude in a hotspring bath, and see for the first time a toddler with a blue bottom--the kind you'd always heard about. Watch her stare at you while her mother splashes her with a fake-wooden bucket. Examine the pieces of skin and hair floating just visible on the surface of the water.

Back in Tokyo, receive your Japanese lesson over a wholesome dinner of boiled vegetables, fresh sashimi, fried lotus root, cod testicles, and warm sake. Learn that in one manner of speaking, men make love （だく）, and women are made love to （だかれる). Don't let this bother you, whoever you are.

Go to sleep satisfied, with a mellow heart and a clean, grateful mind,

Suggests L.L.

The Perseid Meteor Shower, from Central Tokyo

It took about 35 minutes to ride bikes to the Tama river. We laid stargazing with two heads on two backpacks and wondered what aliens use for money. The Perseids took pity on us and we were given six chances each to make wishes come true. The cake I requested never arrived, but the cared-for people on whose behalves I spent my other five wishes have all sent thank-you cards. You are welcome. Thank the Perseids.