October 15, 2018
Like quiet flames burning in the grass, the vivid vermilion flowers of Higanbana are blooming with one accord to silently tell us that autumn has arrived here undoubtedly.
Swallowtail butterflies, which once kept flitting high in the bright summer sky, are flying low to eagerly find scarce floral nectar before they disappear.
Soon these blazing flowers will vanish from sight without being noticed and brilliant autumnal tints of leaves will begin to emerge gradually in the gardens like always.
In the tranquil garden behind the modest Buddha hall, I saw a silvery-white heron standing still on a rock and gazing fixedly at the quiet surface of the pond to hunt its prey.
The illusion about the flow of time had disappeared completely and, through the piercing eyes of the heron, I eternally stared into the water surface sparkling calmly in the lucid autumnal sunlight.
Just like the serene blue sky of autumn, every flower of this brief season is also concealing a subtle shade of sorrowfulness.
Autumn is the beautiful twilight of the year and wanes swiftly into the long gloomy days of winter.