Why I Wander

Strolling about the port city of Imabari earlier this week I stumbled upon this intriguing thatched bamboo fence:

Being the curious sort, I walked around its perimeter trying to peek in. On the north side I discovered its entrance:

Ducking inside and following the path, I found it to be an old tea arbor.

Walking over to the nijiriguchi, or small entrance door, I spied some literature resting under a cutely tied rock:

Reading it, I learned that the entire structure, originally constructed in 1582, had been transported from Kyōto by a wealthy man named Kōno from Tokyo as part of the city's new art museum in the 1970s.

Here's a view of the larger room where those taking tea could look out onto the garden:

Back out near the entrance is my favorite building, a little covered outdoor meeting place:

Notice the nice, continuous piece of rock as foot rest

 and the beautiful bamboo work at the corner of the bench:

Back outside, one nice final touch was the bamboo gate:

Unfortunately, I didn't have the temerity to take a picture of the old gardener taking care of the grounds who politely answered my questions.

I guess I need to go back. Now if only they'd let me sit down inside with a cup of tea....

Still in Hiding

Echosquirrel and I went for second foray into the bamboo forest yesterday, this time to another location a little further, a little deeper in, but once again the shoots proved to be elusive.  Lots more evidence of wild boar, and, I think, humans too —but no take-no-ko. (First hunting failure here.)

We did find some active bee hives, and later some abandoned houses surrounded by beautifully constructed stone walls both being swallowed up by the forest. Oh, and some fuki (butterburr) which became breakfast this morning in an omelet, so the trip certainly wasn't worthless.

On the way back home, we bumped into a Japanese friend in the park and asked her if we were simply too late — but she said, no, there still should be shoots out there. Guess we're just unlucky, and perhaps too close to civilization.

We did go to out favorite ramen shop after the hunt where we were able to get a taste of the shoots in our soup.

But, not entirely satisfied, this morning I went to the market and bought some.

Both varieties are cheap and tasty, though the latter are already gone.

Here they are at home, together. Not sure how the real thing feels sitting next to his processed cousin — not to mention the fake bamboo flooring below.

But I suspect they'll be fine together.

Bamboo Shoots in Hiding

Over the dam and through the woods and straight up the side of the mountain Echosquirrel and I traveled. We picked our way across the ridge top past some stink bush and last year's susuki grass and descended under a small grove of chestnut and out onto a bamboo-covered ravine.

We were in search of take-no-ko, bamboo shoots, edible delicacies which can only be harvested for a very short period in spring. It was a beautiful grove, with nicely spaced trees, their attractive, ringed trunks soaring up to the sky.

We sat listening to the wind rush through the leaves. Occasionally a couple of trunks would knock together. We sipped hot tea and munched on little sandwiches we had brought.

We were both excited. I had only ever harvested bamboo shoots once before and that was on a fluke — I stumbled upon one in the middle of the trail while out hiking back when I used to live in Eastern Japan.

For Echosquirrel it was her first time — and for her to go deep into the woods, some berry or mushroom or herb really should be produced. We had already harvested some sugina earlier in the day (see previous post) so at least we wouldn't go home empty-handed if we couldn't find any bamboo shoots.

Lunch over, we began carefully picking our way down the slope, inspecting the duff for little shoots pushing up through the soil.

That's an old wrapper around the base of a good-sized bamboo in the picture on the left. The young shoots' wrappers are closer to a straw yellow color.

We saw dozens of the wrappers littered across the forest floor. We also saw inoshishi shit. Piles and piles of it.

Inoshishi are the wild boars that live in the forest around here. They're very good at grubbing up roots and tubers and bamboo shoots — and they had done their work on the entire area.

We were late. But that's how it is sometimes.

Back up the steep ridge, resting again, I was reminded of this haiku by Yosa Buson:

茯苓は伏かくれ松露はあらはれぬ 

fu ling hides underground

puffball doesn't materialize 

  

(Fu ling is the medicinal mushroom, Poria cocos, resembling a coconut, which grows underground. It's used for insomnia, invigorating the spleen and heart, among other things.) 

Buson went away empty-handed, just like we were to go.

Base of bamboo with runners

Sometimes you find what you're looking for — and in unbelievable numbers too — and sometimes you don't. It depends on timing, and luck, and knowing the terrain, and knowing what other critters are up to and when.

We're going back out this weekend — to an even deeper grove up an even steeper mountain. Check back in here in a couple of days and with any luck I'll have pictures of bamboo shoots in the basket and the pot.

Just need to outwit the boars and other bamboo shoot lovers.