"There's a collective haunting elements which I couldn't explain at that time while we were exploring the park. Compounded by windless afternoon...a set of multiple stone lanterns stands one after the other; moss crept-up to most of its columnar structure evokes a rather melancholy picture against a backdrop of overcast sky. Statues...are in repose of utter abandonment. In retrospect, they portend a horrific event about to come to Japan that afternoon."

 cont'd...

Stone lanterns

At around two o'clock in the afternoon while leaving Asakusa area, my wife's yet another delightful determination to see Tokyo Tower that day had us veered our feet off to a Metro station nearby to pursue her tower visit. With highlighter pen and a map, the station's staff we asked had then jots of x's, circles, and arrows marked down over other few attractions on the map for us.

The initial feeling of diffidence towards my own limited perception of how to handle a basic Japanese conversation - or inquiry for that matter, afterward, was transformed to a hastened series of bows of comprehension and gratefulness for the attendant's undivided attention of showing us how to get to those places.

Wanting to cover most of them in a single day, we both agreed to proceed with the plan the following day instead, the 12th of March.

Tori

Out of alternatives, the Ueno Park and the nearby Ameyoko night market which are few minutes walk away from Oak Hotel came up to mind. Ah, what better way to spend the rest of the afternoon amongst yet budding cherry trees, Shinto shrines, stone lamps, and colourful fire lanterns!

Several shrines in the park that we began to explore had the usual ambiance of the park itself as a whole, but only more. The silence here was extra-ordinarily deafening. I could almost hear my heartbeat. One of the things I found interestingly enough was its "torii" (gates) painted in deep orange with inscriptions engraved in each single column. Each singular torii canopies the whole length of winding steps down to the shrine house where a set of canine statues caped in red cloth guard the entrance. This shrine house is not as huge and grand like other shrine, but it is as serene. The inviting lanterns hanging by the entrance almost tempted me to enter the shrine, but I was not sure enough if the information placard in Japanese means "no public entrance". I backed-out. Those wooden prayer tablets - each with unique inscriptions written in almost altruistic manner from the petitioners (i.e., a prayer for world peace) by the way, is worth mentioning.

Shrine house

Elsewhere in the park - appreciation-aside from these little brightly-hued paper lanterns festooned and hopping from one cherry tree to another and a lone group of young buskers showcasing their captivating talents, there's a collective haunting elements which I couldn't explain at that time while we were exploring the park. Compounded by windless afternoon, the flowerless cherry trees did not offer any type of visual anticipation for springtime. Nearby, a set of multiple stone lanterns stands one after the other; moss crept-up to most of its columnar structure evokes a rather melancholy picture against a backdrop of overcast sky. Statues of remarkable personalities of the country's historic past are in repose of utter abandonment. Only fewer crowd dotted the park's wide avenue. In retrospect, they portend a horrific event about to come to Japan that afternoon. (to be continued...)

down the shrine house

wooden tablets