In early March, my significant other (let’s call him F) drove the two of us to Mt. Fuji. I had only ever seen Fuji in passing and by accident: in transit aboard trains heading somewhere else, from the 41st floor of the Park Hyatt hotel a couple days after New Years, and once from an airplane nearing Narita when the sun was setting above the clouds. Everything below the plane was tinged with orange, even the snow on Fuji’s summit. In the eight years I’ve lived in Japan, I haven’t made the significant trips I’m supposed to make.
Very moving. That first picture of the shadows says it all. Well done!
Helen, thank you so much. That means a lot coming from someone whose photos bring so much peace and meaning to those who view them. <3
What a kind comment. I really appreciate that. You are such a gifted writer and I am loving the opportunity to read your pieces. Thank you xo
"...I often feel the presence of my own ghosts, following us quietly in a solemn, floating procession." Beautifully written, Jes. I'm in awe.
Darling Eve, thank you so much. Hugging you from afar--a small ghost hug. <3
F is a lucky person. Nice story Jes, made my day.