A Walking Tour in Japan
I was asked to put together and lead a two-week walking tour in Japan in October 2025. I have never walked so much in Japan.
Unwanted Foreigners
Too many tourists? Is Japan a victim of its own success? Tread lightly, dear reader.
Cycling the Noto Peninsula
A spring bicycle tour with Albrecht and Sylvia yields a moment of beauty that transcends time and place
An Accident
A visit to friends ends in a horrible moment of impact. Cash, cookies, and the passage of 36 years have done little to ease a painful memory.
The Language of Love (Part 2)
A young man, an older woman, forbidden love. Maybe it was bound to happen.
The Language of Love (Part 1)
English lessons lead to forbidden love between two lonely, bored people.
Learning Japanese: There is no Royal Road to Nihongo (Part 1)
Middlebury, Vermont, summer of 1978: the beginning of my Japanese language journey. It’s been a rough road.
Dr. Okamoto, or the Sorrows of Addiction
Two high school boys discover that biomedical research is not to be their path.
The Healing Power of Light
A tiny museum on a Kyoto side street opens a window into the world of the kaleidoscope
幸炎 Joyous Flame (part 1)
An American potter in Japan, the warmth of the kiln on a chilly night.
Manhole Covers
There are wonders at our feet. Felicia found them everywhere in the streets of towns and cities of Japan.
The “Ah-ness” of Things
Mono no aware: This sense of gentle sadness at the passing of…things…is hard to pin down: life is full of sadness, but what kinds of things are we talking about?
A Letter from Masako
The letter is neatly folded in its envelope where I had taped it into the pages of my journal 40 years ago. But the tape had long since dried out and the letter sits loosely between the pages.
The Fog of Translation
I speak two languages: English and Japanese. It is hard to imagine two languages that could be more different from each other.
Flowing Water
It’s late summer and we’re at the Lady Killigrew Café at the Book Mill, a used book store in Montague, Massachusetts. The Saw Mill River is full and flowing fast beside the old mill building. There was once a dam and mill race here, but those were dismantled and removed long ago. Only rapids remain, and the air is filled with the sound of rushing water.