Saturday, October 17, 2026 : Light from the Past
© 安岡喜晴 (JoyShine)
Today we biked to Honen-in Temple.
We rode along the Shirakawa River and up to Shishigatani.
It was a sunny autumn day, and the water of the Shirakawa River was crystal clear, sparkling in the sunlight.
Leaving the riverside road and going up a slope, we reached the entrance to the path that leads up to Honen-in.
We parked our bikes at a nearby bike parking lot and walked up the path from the stone marker.
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Whenever I come around here, I somehow feel nostalgic.
Shirakawa Street brings back a memory of coming to the bus depot to do medical checkups years ago.
I also came to Honen-in during Golden Week last year.
It's not as if I used to come here every day. Both are memories of just a single day, and yet they feel strangely nostalgic.
Somehow that's strange to me. There must be two kinds of nostalgia.
A nostalgia different from the kind you feel because you used to be somewhere all the time.
Probably, the memory of that one day works as a doorway, and through it, I'm remembering those days.
As we walked up the slope, the road of the past and the road ahead seemed to overlap.
Fallen leaves lay scattered here and there along the path. When I looked back, that was the path we had come along.
Ahead of us, the temple gate came into view. With the sunlight behind it, its roof shone brightly.
I hoped the road we would walk from here on would lead somewhere as bright as that.
Through the gate, greenery spread out before us. Maybe the road to the future is like this too.
On the surface of the pond, the whole hall was reflected upside down.
Maybe memories are something like this.
What's reflected on the water must be memories,
and maybe the reflection looks more beautiful for the same reason memories do.
A single small ripple spread out, and I felt the memory waver, just a little.
After leaving Honen-in, we walked along the Philosopher's Path.
The memory of walking the Philosopher's Path with students back in my Doshisha days,
and of stopping at a teahouse along the way, came back to me with a wave of nostalgia.
There was a small stone bridge, with "Sakura Bridge" carved into it in old-style kanji.
Beyond it was a teahouse.
Today, once again, we stopped at a teahouse along the way.
Today's teahouse was quite grand.
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A hanging scroll and a white vase in the alcove, and on the ceiling, a washi paper lamp like layered petals.
On the paper spread on the table, in brush writing: "If I am to bloom, let it be by your side."
It sounded like words from a wedding.
On the first plate, a small flower.
Only a little on the table, like when we first got married.
Then came the appetizers, then the hot pot, then the beef, tofu, and mizuna,
and the table came to look like the table of a family that had grown bigger.
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Maybe this is what it looks like when a family prospers.
The dessert at the end was the afterglow that follows prosperity.
On our way out, we found an old phone booth.
Inside were two black rotary phones, nestled close together.
Somehow they looked like a married couple.
A wooden sign read, "The Phone Booth Where Love Comes True."
It carries the wish that two people who meet at Sakura Bridge will find happiness.
So maybe I wasn't entirely wrong to see them as a couple.
Sakura Bridge is the stone bridge we had passed a little earlier.
The table started with the wedding, but the couple's first meeting arrived late.
Which comes first depends on where you stand when you look.
It's the same as the light of a distant star arriving late.
We walked along the Philosopher's Path, came out onto Shishigatani Street, and walked north to a cafe near Ginkakuji Temple.
It's a white Western building, with the cafe on the second floor.
We went upstairs and ordered a coffee, a tea, and two cakes.
The lace curtains on the windows softened the light.
By the time we left, it was already dark.
The moon, and a few stars.
They were twinkling right beside it.
Lately, even in Kyoto City, bears have been spotted in areas close to the mountains.
That was scary, so we hurried to the bike parking lot.
We got back to our bikes safely and headed west along Kitaoji Street in the dark.
On the way, we had salt-flavored ramen with a creamy chicken broth at a shop along the street.
Then we rode on to Karasuma Kitaoji and took a break at a cafe full of memories inside the mall.
Today, we went to so many places full of memories.
Finally, we rode along Kitaoji Street to Horikawa Kitaoji and went south down Horikawa Street.
West on Teranouchi Street, south on Jofukuji Street, through the quiet streets at night, and we came out onto Senbon Street.
We did some shopping at the supermarket and went home.
Riding along the Shirakawa River already felt like a long time ago.
This day, too, will surely someday cross over to the side that's reflected on the water.