On my first day of my six day walk down the length of the Yatsugatake range last summer, I camped by this lake. With evening the temperature plummeted and few campers were out and about. For two hours I sat at the end of the pier with my eyes closed, listening. I heard the lapping of the waves, the moan of the wind on the ridge above, a lone nightjar whose eerie laughter echoed across the water, and, almost a murmur, the quiet voices of campers huddled in their sleeping bags.

Approaching Storm over Amida Peak, Yatsugatake Range, Japan, 2002.
Down here in Tokyo a summer storm might cause people to grumble about sopping pants hems and forgotten umbrellas, but rarely does it make for more than passing banter. Up in the alpine regions of the mountains, though, a storm can stop you in your tracks to [...]

My afternoon run took me along my usual route along the Noh River near my apartment. As I ran atop the walkway that follows both sides of the river, the flattened reeds and rushes that had been standing higher than my head a week ago indicated how high the flood waters had raged through the [...]