Riverside Terrace
Postcards of memory (5) June
"Where did you leave your friend, President Nixon?" - the Mama-san asks me.
She is wearing a kimono, geta slippers and her hair is done in a bun. She means my friend David.
Far inside the park there are two forgotten houses and there is a large cherryblossom tree, some vending machines, a few chairs and tables. You serve yourself from a machine, that's almost all that is the Riverside Terrace café. All is green around; the river is near and there is a quiet little lake, too.
In the afternoon the regulars, old men lean their bicycles under the trees. Enjoying a can of beer or cup of sake they play Japanese chess and talk around the long, red metallic table. Next to their back is a mural that covers the whole outside wall of the house. The world under the sea. There is Adam after the Conception from the Sixstine Chapel, although in place of the Lord there sits a sweet mermaid, shaking her hair, and instead of little angels there are baby kappa river-dwarfs. They are playing with that certain apple Eve had collected in Eden.
We enjoy a pleasant breeze. Sitting under a Coca Cola parasol we are sipping our can of iced cocoa and coffee, resting our eyes on the moss-covered body of this wonderful cherry tree.
"She looks like dancing, doesn't she?"
After a full, long minute I get the answer.
"She's a ballet-dancer, the cherry-tree spirit. She's dropped on her back and her legs just fling about, you see, towards the sky."
"Where did you leave your friend, President Nixon?" - the Mama-san asks me.
She is wearing a kimono, geta slippers and her hair is done in a bun. She means my friend David.
Far inside the park there are two forgotten houses and there is a large cherryblossom tree, some vending machines, a few chairs and tables. You serve yourself from a machine, that's almost all that is the Riverside Terrace café. All is green around; the river is near and there is a quiet little lake, too.
In the afternoon the regulars, old men lean their bicycles under the trees. Enjoying a can of beer or cup of sake they play Japanese chess and talk around the long, red metallic table. Next to their back is a mural that covers the whole outside wall of the house. The world under the sea. There is Adam after the Conception from the Sixstine Chapel, although in place of the Lord there sits a sweet mermaid, shaking her hair, and instead of little angels there are baby kappa river-dwarfs. They are playing with that certain apple Eve had collected in Eden.
We enjoy a pleasant breeze. Sitting under a Coca Cola parasol we are sipping our can of iced cocoa and coffee, resting our eyes on the moss-covered body of this wonderful cherry tree.
"She looks like dancing, doesn't she?"
After a full, long minute I get the answer.
"She's a ballet-dancer, the cherry-tree spirit. She's dropped on her back and her legs just fling about, you see, towards the sky."
posted by bm at 10:08 AM
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