Folowing the Zen Trail

This is a letter of apology.

I may never return from Japan. I would love to have written sooner but each key on the key board has at least 7 different characters it can produce and I couldn’t find the English ones for a good long while.

For the last four days I have been trekking through the mist burdened mountains of this sublime country, fasting and reflecting at the Zen monuments that nestle in the evergreen folds of Japan’s empire. After pacing the bright action packed streets for a day or so I realized that I would never be able to afford accommodations, what with a youth hostel running at $50.00 a night. So I packed up my satchel and made for the paths of enlightenment seldom trod in the winter months. Winter has been a forgotten delight, and one that I now gorge myself upon. The still courtyards of ancient Samurai temples are filled with freshly blooming cheery blossoms and bejeweled with snow lightly falling from the marbled sky.

If I don’t return, look for me trekking the lost trails of a foreign empire chasing the shadows of my soul.