this Walt Whitman line was in my head the whole weekend. it's the answer to the question, "what is grass?":
"I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven." how beautiful
andy packed light...
the place we stayed. called "pension boy" and endearingly referred to as "the boy." the owner was a huge beatles fan and piped it through the entire establishment during waking hours. he made us breakfast which included freshly baked bread and it was pretty wonderful.
the view of a volcano steaming after a long hike to an abandoned research lab (please no questions)
yoko sensei, mikuru sensei and i on a mossy bridge on the way to the abandoned building
andrea yelling at paul for something , clearly relaxed after an hour in an onsen (hot spring)
tourist stop against beautiful scenery
sun setting on a shrine
my secret garden
largest caldera in the world. it sounds pretty significant, but i found it really difficult to get into because i learned what a caldera was in transit to the marvel.
me and the caldera
in the general vicinity of the caldera. i sat here thinking for a good while.
the picture takes the person
the angriest can i've ever seen. rough translation: don't throw your fucking cans in this fucking drain!
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