On the gold bank of the Tama river

The temperature was again obscenely warm today, another gross insult to February.  The weather was good enough to have been a perfect English summer`s day.


During these blue sky winter days, everything seems so much sharper and clearer; I feel like my eyeballs have been given an upgrade.  This morning my eyes demanded a workout.  I took the train to Tachikawa and walked down to the Tama river.

The sharpness in my eyes was not matched in my head.  My mind felt murky and confused; it was coping with both drowsiness-inducing anti-allergy tablets and the caffeine-kick from two morning coffees.  While half it craved more sleep, the other half was drafting a proposal for world peace.  In Turkish.

On the bank of the Tama river, the grass had turned gold.  Slowly baking in the glare of the sun, this golden grass made an elegant and comfortable cushion.

Joggers, runners and cyclists swept by on the riverside path behind me.  Underneath the road bridge, a homeless man was hanging out his washing.

Smoothly and silently, a 4 carriage train glided along the bridge for the Tama monorail.  Briefly, I recalled my one ride on that monorail: an oven-hot August day two years ago taking a shy, milk-white skinned girl from Nagano to visit Tama zoo.

For a few hours today, it felt like we had skipped spring and gone straight to summer.  I was tricked though.  The sun was just teasing.  The forecast is now predicting snow to hit Tokyo again on Wednesday.

I will never trust February again.



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