Chapter 6 Pilgrimage Day 1

Diary of the White Bush Clover

Day 1 (6 October 1967) Kyōto to Hama Ōtsu

I had a little rucksack. Inside I had underwear and clothes, a notebook, map, raincoat, toothbrush and toothpaste. That was everything. My sneakers were new when I began to walk to Tōkyō, starting from the Kyōto Palace garden. I could hear the sound of my footsteps on the pebbles. Beside the path a puppy was in trouble. He could not jump down from the bank. I picked him up and set him down. He was glad, jumping all around. When I started walking away he followed me. I ran, the puppy ran. Maybe he is homeless, I thought, but if he is in this garden he will not have a traffic accident. I picked up the puppy and said to him, “I am starting a long journey today. I cannot take you with me so please stay here.” I put him down and ran, trying to escape, but the puppy ran after me. I hid behind a tree and a building and at last he lost me. But I had lost a lot of time.

Route 1 had a lot of traffic. The air was blue with exhaust fumes. A little purple flower was blooming beside the road. I had a sudden realization that flowers do not bloom for people, they just bloom naturally. Some flowers are grown for people to look at them, like the ones in the flower shop, but little flowers growing on the side of the road, people just pass them by. However, I did notice this little wild flower so I picked one blossom and pressed it in my notebook, as if to say I admire your beauty.

After walking awhile I found a famous temple, Geshin-ji. It did not look like an o-tera because it was extremely small. The gate, which I opened easily, was more like the gate to a house. Nobody was around, not a sound. To my right there was a well with long-handled bamboo dippers so I drank some water. It was cold and sweet. I thought about how travelers in ancient times must have drunk this water and refreshed their tired bodies.

At last I arrived at Hama Ōtsu in Shiga-ken, about twenty kilometers from Kyōto, my first stop. I could see Biwa-ko bridge. It looked like a white line drawn across the lake. I headed toward Butsuryu-ji, asking someone for directions to the temple, where I had already received permission to stay. The temple was big and old, built a hundred years ago. The roof was very high, shining in the sunset.

The priest’s wife came to the door smiling and said, “I thought you would be wearing white clothes because of your pilgrimage but you look very modern.” I was wearing slacks, a shirt, sunglasses and a scarf.

In the evening Nitchiei-san, the priest, wrote a poem for me. The priest of Butsuryu-ji was a very scholarly man who used quite difficult kanji. I feel this waka is a comparison of the eternity of nature with the short life of a human. The temple is ancient, founded over a hundred years ago, but I stayed only one night, a very short time. My life like the autumn leaves is transitory.

kaibyaku no

hiraki tamaishi

butsuryu-ji

hitoyo yadorinu

momijiba no aki

At the ancient temple of Butsuryu-ji,

amongst the autumn beauty

of colorful changing leaves,

I stayed

one night.

I went to bed but the trucks on the road nearby made a lot of noise. It was midnight yet many people were still working.