Misakiguchi

We are finally getting some real autumn weather, although if it is often closer to +25°C rather than the +5°C that I would much prefer. But it being so hot and sunny, it is a perfect occasion to go to the beach, and of course what better place to go than Misakiguchi?

I had hoped there might be some autumn colours, but there are very few cherry trees there, and the tree leaves were either green, brown, or fallen.

However, I was delighted to find that about half the cabbage fields now host the large white 'daikon' radish. This doesn't change the flat green leafy look, but it does drastically cut down on the brassica smell. And less brassica can be nothing but positive.

I have known for quite some time about a hiking coursethat runs close to the beach I usually go to, and so decided to try it out. It runs from the brassica fields down into a small village with a small temple decorated with violent pink plastic lanterns and violent blue porta-potties, for some obscure reason.

Beyond this, the path ran along a stange abandonned port/canal system, and old abandonned fishing shacks. It was all quite odd, as although the docks were overgrown with grasses and weeds, it didn't look as if it had ever really been used as a port.

The map indicated a difficult passage right after that, and they weren't joking! Luckily, I had checked that it would be close to low tide, and only had to wait 20 minutes till the water got low enough to let me pass.

After the rather disappointing start to the walk, I was amazed at the little bit of paradise on the other side of that little promontory.

The hills were capped with autumn grasses, pampas grasses and many small yellow and blue flowers. The bushes and trees were bend and knarled by the wind till they perfectly fit the shape of the hill. The rains we had had earlier in the week had started little springs drizzling out from under the grass and down to the sea. And, from the top of the hills, basking in the sun and cool sea breeze, you had a splendid view out over Sagami Bay, dotted with the white sails of everyone else out for a day in the sun.

And people were not the only people out and about, as every tidal pool was a scurrying pool of life: crabs, small bottom-feeding fish, and hundreds of hermit crabs. It was moving time in the hermit crab population, and it appears they have a bit of a housing shortage problem; there often still being live snails (with their doors firmly held shut) occupying the shells the crabs were trying to move into.

On a more peaceful scale, there were also numerous anemones out feeding in the by now incomming tide, surrounded by unmoving chitons. I assume they do move, somtime, but have yet to experience such a phenomenon.

Just one more reason to come back again, although admittedly, reasons to go to such a beautiful place are never very far away. But I think next time I'll pass on the weird abandonned port, the pink lanterns and the porta-potties.