The Grass is Greener
This summer is stretching out longer and ever
longer. Already we're well into September, and the days are still so
hot as to stifle all good intentions towards the woodblock waiting on
my carving bench. I carve for a while in the morning, and then again
late in the evening, but during the middle of the day ...
That 'left-over' time is not wasted, though. Not
at all. I know the weather will be turning soon, and as there won't
be many more chances for it, I've been spending a fair bit of time
relaxing in the park. There is a very enjoyable public space not too
far from my apartment, a pleasant grassy hill overlooking the Tama
River, on which shade trees are spotted here and there. The wide
slope rolls gently down from a line of bushes at the top, to a
jogging path that runs along the base. I usually have it pretty much
to myself, and this is a bit of a mystery to me, for this is one of
the most comfortable, inviting, public places to be found anywhere
near my home. It's not just the scenery, although the view across the
valley is pleasant, and it's not the peace and quiet, although
traffic noises are almost completely absent. It's the grass. The turf
on this hill, unlike the thin, withered stuff that passes for grass
in most Japanese parks, is thick, green and lush. I don't know how
this has come about, whether by special effort on the part of the
parks board, or simply by accident of soil and climate, but it is
truly a most unusual thing to find in Japan.
I learned early on in my time in this country that
one indispensable accompaniment to any trip to a local park was a
plastic 'picnic sheet', to be spread out on the ground wherever one
wished to sit and relax. Down goes the sheet, off go the shoes, and
that particular spot is thus transformed into ones own private space.
Such a sheet is absolutely essential, as the ground in Japanese
parks, even if nominally 'grassy', is always hard and dusty. Sitting
down without it would be like sitting in the middle of a parking lot.
Such is the typical Japanese park, even in a quite progressive city
like my Hamura. It's the norm. Nobody thinks of complaining, or
suggesting to the parks office that things could be different.
I used to think that climate might have been the
reason for our poor Japanese park grass. Perhaps the winter was too
cold and dry, or something of that sort. But then one day, on a visit
to the nearby American air base at Yokota, during one of their annual
'open house' events, I was surprised to find that many areas inside
the fence were ... you guessed it ... deep green, soft lawns. As
Hamura obviously shares the same climate and soil conditions as this
adjoining air base, it would seem to indicate that our parks too
could be clothed in such green, if the knowledge and desire was
there.
But I'm not as interested in complaining about our
dusty parks, as I am in enjoying this special one that I've found.
It's about ten minutes by bicycle from my apartment, and I frequently
find myself drawn to it whenever I've been out somewhere in that
direction. I don't need one of those plastic sheets for this place,
so I can drop in anytime! And what do I do there? Can I tell you
without fear of being deported for 'un-Japanese' activities?
I daydream. I watch the clouds. I idly follow the
progress of the people jogging back and forth along the pathway, kind
of like watching some kind of irregular tennis game ... left, right,
left, left, right ... Sometimes I pretend to work. I lie there with
my essay notebook open, ready for inspiration to strike, but it
usually doesn't ... not there on that peaceful hill, where the grass
is just too comfortable, just not conducive to making any effort ...
Mostly, it's just daydreaming. I'd be embarrassed to tell you how
many hours I've 'wasted' there lying on that grass, and as I write
this now, it strikes me that this perhaps tells us why Japanese parks
are usually not so comfortable. If they were more pleasant places in
which to spend time, then perhaps that's exactly what people would
do. Lie around in the park. What would deep lush grass do to the
Japanese work ethic? Is it the barren-ness of Japan's parks that is
responsible for her economic success?
Just think. Maybe this could be a new weapon in
the international trade wars ... If Japan's economic competitors were
to send airborne missions to fly over all the parks here dropping the
right kind of grass seed, maybe industrial production would then take
a nosedive. Japan could retaliate, spraying grass killer over parks
overseas ...
But see, there I'm proving my point. That kind of
silly thought is exactly the kind of thing that comes to mind as you
lie on your back on the turf, watching the clouds sail by. So see if
you can find a place like this near your home. And if you can't, then
you're welcome to come and share 'my' little grassy hill. There's
lots of room. Come on over ... but leave your picnic sheet at
home!