“If a man has no tea in him, he is incapable of understanding truth and beauty.”
~Japanese ProverbAncient Asia and Old Japan extended down the sloped hills on either side of the modern freeway as we zipped along. Scalloped fields of emerald tea bushes stretched toward distant hills; farmers in pointed hats waded in flooded rice flats; a scarlet bridge linked two jade riverbanks. We passed Mt. Fuji, conical and cloud-covered, capped with snow despite the commencement of climbing season looming just six weeks away.
It crowns the landscape of undulating tea plantations, silent as in centuries past. We glided along the Pacific Ocean, where net buoys dotted the calm water. We crossed the Oigawa River—when Japan was ruled from the western city of Kyoto this river was said to be the western boundary for East Japan’s ghosts and devils. We crossed anyway.



