Hunting for Momiji

This is way over-due (about two months) but I’m pretty proud of my hunt for momiji, autumn leaves, at Mount Takao. Back in November last year, the resident ‘international friendship group’ Niji-no-Kai organized a momiji-gari (紅葉狩り) trip for the poor uncultured international students who had yet to see or had seen the glorious autumn foliage of Japan.

I had earlier managed to catch a glimpse of what had been the leave in their dying throes in Nikko a week or two earlier, but in that early November wind, Mount Takao was blazing with such fervor that I was taken aback for a brief moment.

So when you read descriptions of autumn and its accompanying scenery as ‘mountains set ablaze’ and ‘the trees seem to be on fire’ and other various metaphors for fire and the intensity of color, try not to raise your eyebrows too much at the text. For one, it’s hard to put into words simply, how magnificent a sight it is to see tree after tree alternate in such vivid colors. For a moment you take a step back and think, how is this possible? And that’s what I did. Taking the trees in, I tried to fathom how these leaves, which had been stubbornly green weeks before, were now such a furious spectrum of reds and oranges. Going out with a bang? At that point of time, it certainly seemed so.

I joined the Mount Takao expedition on a whim. When they said “hike” I didn’t expect a real hike up a mountain. I didn’t really know what I was expecting, other than something that was not a 2 hour climb up rocks, roots, ravines, and other terribly savage things that start with the letter R. For someone who’s physically inept, this was one of the worst ways to spend my Sunday.

But I reaped rewards, as well as sweat and a stitch in my side, on the climb. Being able to catch shots like this, so deceptively slice-of-life but it just moves me whenever I see this particular photo. Strangely enough I have no idea who this red-shirted guy is but he fits perfectly against the green background. And the bokeh! I switched up to my 50mm half-way up because I just needed something less obstructive hanging around my neck and once again the 50mm performed.

One of my friends back in NUS commented that this photo reminded her of a Wong Kar Wai film. A mollifying comment because I appreciate his visual aesthetic (even though I find some his films not to my liking). But a photo like this easily captures what I was feeling at the moment: a little burnt out, drifting, going where the wind would take me, but still burning slowly with a dull passion. I find it extremely touching the way people always surround these huge cauldrons (there is a specific term for this, but ‘cauldron’ sounds a lot more mysterious) of fire and smoke and furiously wave the fumes onto their faces. Good luck or global warming I don’t know, but this sort of collective culture that compels everyone on site to join in, never fails to amaze me.