Green, green, green! There’s no other place to start.
Shizuoka City. You know it’s going to be hot. In the morning, I keep the sliding glass door closed and the curtain pulled and the oscillating fan on medium, trying to preserve the night cool for as long as possible.
I do a little watering. Last night, I picked and boiled up just about all the edamame. Little green marbles of varying sizes now adorn my two kumquat trees—in pots. The rose stem I stuck in the ground two months ago has finally pushed out a new set of leaves. I knew it would. I kept the ground wet—and the old leaves never died.
The grasshoppers are feasting on my gardenias.
I don’t live on a farm, or in a house with a big yard, just in a small apartment in the middle of the city, one that happens to have a bit of garden space. Not so easy to find.
Noon. Get the camera. Hop on the bike. Only a minute away.
The rice fields are a joy year round, but as far as the color green goes, today’s as good as it gets.*
You can try to describe it. It’s vibrant. There’s still something of a young yellow green, but also a darker, purer green. It’s a color that makes you believe you can see the stalks growing. It’s a color the sun wants to shine on. It’s hazy all around, but to shine on the rice, the sun has burnt out a little ring of blue sky. And this seems to please the rice. I’m pretty sure the rice likes it, too, when a breezes comes through. I know I do. It’s hot. Very hot.
When I really try to describe it, though, all I need is the one word. Green. Because that’s pretty much it. Throw in a little voice, a humph of emphasis, and you’ve got all you need: Green, green, GREEN!
*If you’re interested in rice growing throughout the year, check out the slideshow I put together to introduce the natural setting of my novel, Along the Same Street.
what a beautiful start, steve. i wish you many many readers from all over the world, for the blog and, of course, for your first book, too.
i will come back 🙂