炎と敬真 BIRTHDAY KANJI

自分と漢字との付き合いについてまた少し分かち合ってもいいですか。

今日は息子の誕生日、「敬真」という漢字を使って絵を描いてみました。「敬愛する両親を試練の炎から守る／真理を愛す、両てを広げる敬真」

It's my son Keima's birthday today. For his drawing this month, I did "Kanji Art" based on the two kanjis, Honor and Truth, that make up his first name.

Hopefully, the drawing shows Truth spreading out his hands to protect his fleeing parents whom he loves and Honors, as they are assaulted by life's flames. I'd e-mailed this thank-you to him and pray God would continue to use him thusly.

THE PAST TWO DAYS AT THE PARK

Remember the three turtles mentioned in my "first bilingual photo story" post? For a while, I went back to that branch to see them, but they left after a few days, and their place was empty.

Yesterday I found them basking in a spot a little ways away from the branch. Only, I could see no splashing around going on this time. It looked like all three shells were relatively still, its occupants completely content to simmer in their puddles of pond water atop lily pads.

To be totally honest, I am not sure it is the same threesome I saw around that branch...it could be a different family, three completely different turtles after all.

As a matter of fact, I saw another branch sticking out of the pond at Lower Bridge, and I could see an unnatural bump on it. Before seeing it up close, I knew what it was!

My Buddhist friend had seen the branch too. We went to see it--yes, a darling hatchling was climbing up it--and we took photos.

We walked around to the other side of the park, where we saw carp swimming under the brush, and a huge golden-ringed dragonfly actually landed on her visor!

I couldn't get out my camera in time. But the mallards right there at Step Creek saw!

Please pray Takako would realize the Creator of Salvation has been loving her all her life; more importantly that she needs Him; and most importantly, like that golden-ringed dragonfly, HE WILL COME SET HIMSELF DOWN IN HER HEART if she would ask Him to.

FUDE ART WANNABES

When my children were little and had to study Japanese calligraphy in school, it was not one of their favorite subjects. I secretly envied them because I've felt an attraction to using the fude brush.  I'd heard about Sumie-E, an old art discipline of scribes of the Orient, and I found myself charmed by its emphasis on simple lines. I'd wondered often if I could dabble in it, since I lived in Japan now.

But writing with that brush and ink, well, that was something my children disliked, I could see it was not something they would have the slightest desire to teach me.

I gave up the idea--thought I'd go back to doing "normal" art--techniques of the proper use of the fude brush really requires the personal instruction--whereas I could get plenty of other art teaching online.

My artist crow friend at the park, Ble Currie de Sans suggested I try "Kanji Art"; maybe it would be simpler than "Sumi-E" since I already knew some kanji?

Last year, gave me a chance to try it. Friends from Africa had a baby and named it "Tendo". I'm sure they'd want their child to know the "Heavenly Way" as well as to make known it known all his life, so I chose those 2 kanji characters for his name. I haven't studied any proper "shuji" (Japanese calligraphy), here is my first attempt at "Kanji Art".

Unfortunately, neither picture for today's post are done with fude brush; I need a teacher to show me how to use it properly.

THE BAGWORM

Most of us give thanks for food. But few thank God for the ability to eat that food.

The bagworm ("mino-mushi") hangs harmlessly from tree branches, its cocoon suspended by a strong thin line, encasing a future adult moth.

Altho' most people possess common knowledge that moths come from caterpillars; few are aware of what I just read: that the mature FEMALE bagworm lacks eyes, wings, functional legs and mouth parts, never leaves the bag and is mummified around several hundred eggs.

Sometimes I think the Creator was unjust to give me less than I should have: whether it be an imperfect personal appearance, less gifts, low I.Q, a dull personality, dysfunctional marriage/family, imperfect conditions with regard to society/education/finances..." It seems I pray and pray and pray things would change, but God just doesn't seem to hear," I whine. I wonder what that little wormie would think.

I WASN'T STUPID AFTER ALL

On our 1967 furlough, my sisters and I had an interesting experience at Washington Elementary School. The school had a policy of putting international students back one grade until they proved that the training they had received in their respective countries were equivalent to the education in the U.S.  So my older sister, a 5th grader, was put in the 4th grade class, I was put back from 3rd grade to 2nd grade, and my younger sister from 2nd into the 1st grade class.

It was apparent to Joyce's teacher that she, as talkative as she was, was bright enough to return to grade 5; the very next day found her back in her own grade level. My younger sister took a few days longer. An entire week went by however, and my teacher said nothing about transferring me back to 3rd grade. (This meant I felt the humiliation of being stuck in the same grade level as my younger sister who had now been moved back into the 2nd grade.)

"I'm stupid, aren't I?" I said to my Mom one day. My sisters had made it back to their original classes; but I hadn't. It couldn't be helped. I just didn't have what it took, I thought sadly. Mommy went to the school right away and talked with the principle. She came back with the report that it was just that June was so quiet she had been overlooked; it wasn't that she was scholastically lacking in any way. The next day found me back in the grade 3 class. I was overjoyed.

But there was a little hitch. I had missed the first part of 3rd grade teaching the basics of cursive handwriting (I hear it is no longer taught). "I'm not stupid," I told myself; "I should be able to do this." And not only did I learn cursive for the entire alphabet in one night, but I wrote out a story in cursive to show my teacher I would be able to keep up with class studies.

Later on in the year, for the "Young Authors" Competition, I submitted a short story about a cat that ended up representing the school. District representatives rode a special bus and went to the University of Michigan, where we divided up into rooms of 10 students and a few adult judges to read the compositions. The State winner was an 8th grader. I remember being glad to be chosen to represent the school. I wasn't stupid, after all. 

Sometimes we hear of "monster parents" who think their children can do no wrong and are real headaches to schools. But there are cases like this I want to thank God for letting Mommy go that day to talk to the principal.

ROOM FOR ONE MORE?

2 years ago, I remember thinking, AHA! I'd found two mallards hidden in the grass, and began sketching them. But their half dozen ducklings saw and wanted to be drawn too so surprised me by coming out of hiding. Adult caretaker mallards also came, so before I knew it, I needed to draw 10 birds. Dragonflies flying by wanted to know what was going on and perched on the reeds--2 more critters needed to be drawn. 2 basking turtles seemed to comment I had a big job to do. I found myself saying, NO MORE VACANCY!

When I went to the same place today, at first, I saw two turtles, a carp, and a white butterfly. I decided to do the sketch, but as I was finishing, a tiny spider crawled up the boulder near me, so I drew him on the boulder near the carp...then I saw a tiny hatchling on a rock behind that boulder. so added him. After I drew the outlines of the background, another turtle climbed up on that center boulder. I managed to squeeze him in behind the first turtle.

Whew. As I was about to go home, 2 more dragonflies came! Maybe tomorrow, I told them. On the way home, I saw a mallard at Step Creek. (He was one of the first 2 in the grass.) He probably sat there and chuckled at what he saw, thinking, it's happening again.

Aren't you glad God always has room for one more?

JUST A PEBBLE

On the way to the park this afternoon, a boy was coming home from school, having a good time kicking a pebble on the pavement as he came.

When he saw me tho', he stopped kicking, and it died down to a tame walk.

I grinned, ran up to the rock left in the middle of the parking lot; kicked it sideways back to him. Altho' surprised at first, he resumed the stone-toeing.

Maybe it's "just a pebble"; but I think that little pebble helped make one little boy's day a little lighter. June--too many "little's". Oh yeah.

MOMMY AND DRAWING

When I was in primary, I'd found some 3"x5" index cards on the floor at home, and since the backs were still unused, I'd scribbled pictures on them. Mommy had found them and had tacked them up onto the large family bulletin board that ran along the hallway.

I know many parents encourage their children's creative talents by putting things up on the refrigerator door, but this was a little different. It made me smile when I saw the prayer letters that made it up on the bulletin board had my illustrations (I told you about the ladder-climbing elephant, Dec.20,'22)! Some were "cartoon" prayer letters; others were my "An MK's Summer" letter to our home church pastor.

I don't know why I thought my Mom wouldn't be interested in my art. Probably because my sisters were gifted in music, and they...and my mother were top students, it just intimidated me to think about anything else.

But a few years ago, when I began sketching a teabag, its string seemed to curl protectively around the small tag.

CARP TREK PHOTOS

It was a breezy day, so altho' the temperature was a little high, it felt OK...the past few weeks, I've been doing things like this, telling myself I didn't feel poorly when I did the above. But this morning, when I felt achy & chilly and noticed the room thermostat showed I should be feeling HOT...well, I didn't really need the thermometer to tell me I needed to stay in bed today.

It's been only a week since I last posted photos, but now I can't exert myself doing a complete drawing (if you do serious art, you know how much it takes out of you), so here's another photo story from something in a folder, only 6 pictures this time.

This carp phenomenon sometimes happens in May after heavy rains, when the ones in the pond at back of the park instinctively head for spawning grounds on the higher level.

1 Fables say when water levels rise

 

2 Strong carp jump up the creek

3 Swim, shimmy, moving any way they can

4 In the shallow water

5 Until they reach Duck Pond

6 Dent knows it's not fable; she made that trek!

Some of my carp friends, like Dent, who made it to Duck Pond, were captured by human custodians and returned, a little at a time, to Deeper Pond. After all, there were 27 carp that came that year. I was happy to see all of them, but that was way too many for park personnel!

えっ？！

Here are a few more in both languages--I wasn't sure if I'd posted it in English or not. The idea came to me when it started sprinkling as I was going home after finishing up my pool-walk exercise.

"Oh-oh; looks like rain," I said, and almost berated myself for forgetting to bring my umbrella. It would make absolutely no sense to any sparrows watching if they knew I'd paid money to get wet for a good while before that!

公園で一大事。人が、プールから家に帰るとき、雨が降り始めると、ぬれないように傘をさしたそうだ。プールと同じ水なのに。もしかして、人間は代わりに別のものを使っているのでは？池・小川を流れているのは、水だよね、私たち、公園の鳥・虫・魚・動物たち、騙されていないよねと心配し始めている。やれやれ。

JUST KEEP ON KEEPING ON

May of 2021. My first try at serious drawing was a frog. I got so tired drawing even just the frog; I knew I couldn't finish it. But I didn't want to just throw it away after working so hard, so I cut out construction paper for the leaf & photographed the frog on a blue jacket cloth background instead of drawing the pond.

The next year, I remember seeing several tadpole-turned frogs at Step Creek and not knowing exactly which one to draw.

One of them saw me and chased the others away. It seemed like his smile said, "See? I took care of your problem!" Then he posed stock still under the leaves along the edge of the creek, seeming to know I would then draw a picture of him.

My problem in Far End Pond 2023 was the exact opposite. I couldn't see the frog where the mellow sound came from. But he croaked consistently, persistently, faithfully, in the same place under those flat, round, green leaves in the pond whenever I went to that corner of the park. So I sketched the leaves!

The Croaker drawn this year? I decided to sketch the leaf and water this time. But I wanted to add a water lily too--a white one? a pink one? So I decided to sketch a white one with pink shading. Can you tell that's a water lily?

There are bound to be difficulties, irritations, questions, as we live for the Lord, but as the frogs have been showing us, God can always make a way for us; we just keep on singing.

REASON FOR CRYING

I saw Justin the bat flying tight circles in the park sky and recalled several incidents when my daughter was little, May I share them with you?

*******

When my friend Beverly rushed into the room to see what was the matter, her daughter Sarah was trying to console the crying little girl a year younger than herself.

"Don't cry. He was only teasing." The older brother stood nearby, obviously consternated. Sarah quickly spoke in his defense. "Mom, he didn't mean anything. He does this all the time."

Beverly shot a look at Daniel. "What? You make little girls cry all the time?

What had happened was Daniel was teasing SARAH, his SISTER! My daughter Emi, who sat on the sofa, couldn't stand seeing her friend get picked on, and had begun to cry! That startled him so much, he HAD to quit!

Sarah and Emi were bosom buddies. Sarah taught her everything: how to ride the swing, how to fall down the stairs (before she knew how to walk down them). And I think it was from Sarah she learned a tender heart too--the reason Emi cried when she thought her friend was getting hurt was her heart echoed the time Sarah cried:

It was when she discovered the lifeless form of a bat. Most little girls would be screaming at the sight of a rat, but Sarah shed tears for "the poor little thing."

Adults might look at these two girls and conclude they were just immature.

I wonder if their tears show their hearts were still tender, and they hadn't lost the ability to express love?

SEEING

My friend said her workday was changed to today, so I don't get to see her. But may I share some things we talked about in previous visits?

"Can you actually see God?" she'd asked me. And we talked about how reading things He's sent me in the Bible are just as alive as seeing it with my eyes. No doubt those who've received love letters can SEE vividly the sender of the letter as if he were standing on the other side of the paper speaking straight to them. Old books can ring true even across miles and passing of time.

It wasn't only what I didn't actually SEE. I grew up with music you HEAR. You enjoy music, not with your eyes, but with your ears. I'm going to switch languages here, referring to the April 11 post "Eyeful or Earful":

公園の裏の池に行った時、カメラマンが皆、三脚に乗っている、デカいカメラで何かを狙っているのが見えた。鮮やかな青のカワセミ鳥が現れたに違いないと、わかった。池の橋のずっと向こう側、皆がいない所に行った。ちょっとびっくりしたのが、そこに、自分のように、うるさい連中から離れて、その鳥のキレイな姿が見えなくてもいいから、別の鳥のキレイな鳴き声を聞いて楽しんでいる人が数人いた。（４月１１日ブログより）

Not only is it possible to enjoy without seeing, I told my Buddhist friend about something I'd seen here at the park that made me realize how unreliable sight is! One day, I saw a floating candle burning in the pond! Impossible, right? I took a photograph of it, but even my husband couldn't figure it out at first. It turned out to be the bottom of a curled water lily leaf reflecting light like wax. The "burning flame"? An orange carp swimming nearby.

ANOTHER CHANCE？

"You're lucky," I remember years ago crouching down and telling the Kawasemi bird in the brush at the edge of the pond; "my camera's run out of battery today, so you're getting off scott free. Otherwise, I would've gotten a picture of you here for sure."

But the next day, when I went to the park, I heard a whistle, and when I turned, the bird posed for me on a branch, his form fully exposed, as if to say, "There. Get your shot. Now we're even." And after I'd clicked my shutter, he flew away.

Yesterday when I went to the park, I bumped into the Buddhist friend I mentioned last week. God brought a myriad of critters before our eyes this time--dragonflies from one end of the spectrum to the other; tiny hatchlings to giant turtles; catfish sporting long whiskers--Takako ended up using up her battery photographing them.

Then the Kawasemi appeared--was it a child of the one I knew years ago? Takako got a good look at it and wanted to take a photo, but she was "out of juice."

"Your father gave ME another chance when that happened to me years ago;" I spoke into the air; "Will you do that for my friend?" I wonder if he will. I make a trip down to Tokyo today but might see Takako at the park again Friday. I wonder what she'll tell me.

CHERRY FIN'S SECRET

"'Tortoise and the Hare!' So this time it was a turtle that pulled your leg?" Coffee the Crow tried to smother a guffaw and almost fell out of the tree..

Quasi the turtle poked his head out of the water, as if to say, "THIS time?"

I didn't know animals like to laugh and have fun, I thought they just ate, fled predators, and spent their time keeping the laws of nature to stay alive as long as they could.

I really didn't know they had humor or personalities or...had problems with stress. But I found out. Coffee the Crow reminded me of the time with the carp Cherry Fin.

At that time, there were quite a few carp in Duck Pond, most of them plain carp. Most people called them brownish gray, except for the areas where sand or dirt had collected, and these they'd say were tan. I liked to think of Carp when the sun angled just right and they looked purple with armor of scales bordered in gold so called them my "Royal Guard".

But I must say, even then, the lone bright orange carp--Cherry Fin--did stand out among all of them. When that one swirled deep in the water even if you couldn't see the rest of its body, you could see its flashing red side.

"Cherry Fin," I'd asked one day, "you move so smoothly. I know all the carp in the pond envy you, not just for your color, but for the beautiful way you swim. How do you stay so relaxed?"

The carp paused at the bottom of the pond then seemed to reply: "I go to the pool for a daily swim, and it gets rid of all my stress. You oughta try it, June."

I stood on the edge of that pond, thinking, "Carp...swim...seriously?... CHERRY FIN!" But by the time I looked up, that orange comma was clear across to the other side of the pond.

NO HARM

The forecast is hard rain all day. I found something from Nov. '23, a string of photos taken a sunny day at the park, and I was thinking on a rainy day, you might enjoy looking at this...but was it too long to post? Well, I remember liking looking at the pictures in a book, so there's no harm in posting these:

1 Tree - Wanna hear what happened today?

2 Mallard - I wanna hear! I wanna hear!

3Tree - The egret came back

3 But today, there was a Great Blue Heron too

5 Mallard - Isn't it too cold for herons?

6 Herons are usually gone by November,

7 Not fishing in Iwatsuki Ponds

8 Like these two...

9 WHAM!

10 Mallard - Gave me a heart attack!

11 Twist...Shake...

1

12 Down the hatch...

13 Mallard - So he really caught him, huh!

14 Heron - I guess there's no harm in

15 Staying here a while longer

Carp - HA! Some poor fish'll have "no more harm" EVER again...

That's all, folks!