記憶の断片

Spring has come. Riverbanks begin to be decorated with colourful wild flowers and swallowtail butterflies fluttering its wings above them.

I often walked from the station to my house after school and remember brightly yellow flowers with a green tint on the edge of a creek. It may be in March when I wore younger man clothe.

In summer, some water drops fell down from

my neck. It stained the street like a rain drop one or two. When I took a whim, I dropped by a local shrine and cast my eyes to the stone monument.

In autumn, I liked the flavour flown from ploughed fields after farmers yield rice. The taste of air was clear but it included a hint of rice grass, bit sweet.

In winter, Chilly cold, but the harshness of the climate urged me to keep up myself strongly. When wind blew, I often tightly grab my over jacket.

Wnen I placed my self in the nature alone, I felt like that I was separated from the bothering society and relaxed. Nothing can interrupt me. I munched a boxed lunch while having a seat on the river embankment. At that time,I saw a bird pecking at its prey in the rice field. That was a grey heron. It were there as though it ruled the world.