Going Alone

I sometimes found antique trails in the mountains of Japan. Pathways which connected high mountain villages before the age of roads, when the fastest way to the other side of the mountain was along steep ridges and around tall waterfalls; through dense forests haunted by moon bear and fierce boar and giant spiders and resounding with the hum and whir of insects. The best way to pick up such a trail was to ask the oldest man in the village “how did folks in the old days get to

Enjoying a lunchtime stroll through the historic neighborhood near work. I’m admiring 80 and 90 year old homes with bronze plaques commemorating their architects and builders. I’m reminded of the 200+ year old farm estates I so frequently discovered in the remote mountains of Japan. Enormous homes designed to house three generations and perhaps a dozen or more family members. Homes built by the village from giant old growth trees, hewn with hand tools and held together withou