the trainman
There is a moment each day, on the way to and from Takadanobaba station, when I am given pause to think about the strange beauty of a place like this.

As I ride the Yamanote sen early each day, I pass Shin-Ookubo eki, a little waystation where hardly anyone enters or exits the train. I would hardly give such a place a second thought if not for a house next to the station and across the tracks. The house, in a strategically poor location, seems to me exceedingly poetic. Not simply for its proximity or its simple, traditional beauty but because every day I notice the persimmon tree in front of the house, next to the tracks, in full fruition laden with ripe persimmons. That such a place, such an idyllic, picturesque home could exist so close to the ceaseless noise of the JR railway gives me some hope for this city.

And again, on the way home, there often occurs a strange and moving moment. Coming in to Shinjuku station past Shin-Ookubo, there is a place where two tracks for two different lines converge and diverge again. Often as my train approaches Shinjuku, we pull up alongside the other train (or vice versa) and for a moment we ride in tandem. The trains are always moving at slightly different velocities so each pulls steadily ahead or behind the other in a sort of mechanical dance. Like two lumbering, curious beasts, the trains meet and then diverge as one flows downward and away and the other up into the underbelly of the station. In that dance, the trains become delicate and sinewy like snakes, a mass of electrical beauty rather than a means of common transportation.

These things still catch my eye. I got off my bus one stop early today to take a picture of one of the increasingly common "Maimo" trucks that are popping up around the city now that winter is approaching. From an oven in the back these trucks sell hot corn and sweet potatoes and maybe other things that I haven't yet imagined. There is one parked in the same spot every evening between Waseda and Takadanobaba station and every day I want either photograph it or buy something but the moment and mood are never right. Today I caught this truck a block from my home just as a few customers called it over. (Like an ice cream truck for seasonal veggies!! MM!) I took several shots at varying exposures. After I finished, was starting to walk away when the woman with the bicycle called me over (in English) and asked me if I wanted to try some Sweet Potato. How could I refuse! As embarrassed as I was for having "stolen her image" several times over, the exchange at least made me feel a bit warmer inside.

Today was one step up. Tomorrow, maybe another. Beautiful fall weather makes the time pass much more easily.