It is SO gorgeous outside right now that it is a pure sin to be sitting in this smoky cafe and not out in the liquid golden sunshine. Tokushima is pure colour right now, such that I walked all over downtown today with my eyes glazed over. The air is clear, clear, clear and crisp, and everything growing is rolling over from green to burgundy; shadows are long and violet and periwinkle blue, the mountains are painfully close and richly textured. The lichens on the rock walls are silver and lush, the brown leaves are crisp and rustly. My new favorite shrine was awash in sunshine and shadow, and to add a gut punch to the already shocking loveliness, multicoloured lanterns are strung all the way up the steep stairs-- yellow! pink! blue! orange! green! red! I have no idea what is being celebrated, but I am celebrating too. Maybe it's because the gods came home. Bubu told me that for the entire month of October, all the gods abandon their shrines and go to a meeting at one particular shrine. Which is weird, because in October I stopped at just about every shrine I came across, many more than usual. I thought they seemed a little emptier than usual. I can't tell if I actually felt an additional emptiness at the shrines at the time, or if that's just an emotion I'm projecting onto the memories due to my new-found knowledge. Either way...

Last week I went to Tokushima Zoo with Y and had a pretty good time; I brought my sketchbook, and captured some animals I have never seen before. It's an old-style zoo, such that you can get a little too dangerously close to the animals (with the exception of the bears, wildcats and the elephants). As I was eyeing a lone Japanese goat, I remembered Grandad telling me about the old Game Farm in Kaleden, where I did most of my growing up. (I grew up in Kaleden, not the Game Farm!) The Game Farm was there for years and years-- even when I was in elementary school, sometimes from the playground you could hear the lion roaring distantly. Anyway, before I was born, the fences were similar to those at the Tokushima zoo-- you could get right up close, possibly poke a finger through and touch an animal if you tried. One time a goat or a mountain sheep at the Game Farm rammed the fence, and gored a little girl, killing her. So, they changed all of the fences so that the only animals you could touch were in the children's petting zoo (and the giraffes, who would reach their long necks over the fence to lick you with their black tongues). Anyway, they had to protect the people from their own curiosity and stupidity, and protect the animals from their own innate behaviors. Therefore, at Tokushima Zoo I was surprised by how close you could get to the animals. I was walking through an exhibit, eating an apple, and I'm sure I upset the lesser panda, who stared at me ruefully with her tongue hanging out, and I nearly caused a riot among the ring-tailed coatis. I could have easily reached over and placed my apple into their curious little hands (to see one of these things, check this out) http://www.cotswoldwildlifepark.co.uk/animals/atoz/ring-tailed-coati.htm but I knew better than to do so, as it could upset their digestion or make them sick somehow. I hurried out of the exhibit and finished my apple quickly. I have to wonder how long it will be before the zoo changes radically... I was pretty shocked and embarrassed by Y's behavior. First he walked into an out-of bounds area in the tropical bird aviary to shake a tall pole that several birds of paradise were resting on-- this caused them to freak out and squawk and flap crazily, disturbing all of the other birds. A zoo staff member came in and cast his eyes about accusingly, stopping on me, the only foreigner in there. Not wanting to get kicked out of the zoo for something I didn't want to have any part of, I high-tailed it out of there. Next, Y had brought an orange in his pocket, which he teasingly held out to every group of primates, then tucked back into his pocket. Their hairy arms came shooting through the bars, and the look of palpable hope and longing shifting to hurt outrage was so human, that I refused to walk anywhere near Y. I was pretty upset by his cruelty. So-- I have mixed feelings about zoos. I think they're great for educating people, and encouraging us to respect all species. But I also have to wonder about quality of life, and who it is that really deserves to be behind bars. As for Y and retribution... in the petting zoo, there was a monkey aviary, packed with agile little guys leaping through the trees and eating bugs and fruit. As I was bending over to look at one, another monkey jumped onto my back to sit there and eat his bit of mango-- I was surprised by his feather-lightness. The monkey-guard lady nodded her assent. All of a sudden, Y was set upon by three at once, including the 'bite monkey' who was marked with a little orange ear tag. The monkey guard shooed them off excitedly, and Y booked it out of there, while I stayed for an extra ten minutes, enjoying the antics of my tree-top friends. Unfortunately, the 'bite monkey' didn't bite, but I've got faith in karma.

The night of Bani's leaving party (last Sunday) was a wild, weird one. As I started riding my bike home from Kitajima in the dark, I was struck by the enormousness of the full moon, and the odd fact that it had a huge misty ring encircling it. Then in the distance, I was amazed to see a gigantic towering cloudbank, flashing with silent lightening. It was like an Olympian stage, set for a dangerous parable. I stopped at the first bridge to stare at this strange dichotomy-- simultaneous full moon and threatening skies-- and looked down in the water to see the surface swarming with huge dark fish that I have never seen before. I started to get really creeped out, and spooked myself for the rest of the ride home, thinking about omens and paranormal phenomena. I wasn't sure I should go to the party. But I did. And it was a blast! So many people came to see Bani off. We started at Root Down and Norm made him the freaking biggest burger I have ever seen in my life. We drank and caroused and eventually moved on to Ingrid's where I drank one too many gin-and-sodas and sang a lot of middling karaoke. I sat for a while leaning my head on Bani's chest, telling him not to go, although I already knew very well that he had made a wise choice based on an inner knowing. When the time has come, and you've got all the signals to go, you'd be a fool to stay. So, good for you Bani! Good luck in Australia. As for the omens-- well, it didn't rain frogs, and the earth didn't shake, but MAN, did I have a headache the next day...