Ryota's Old Daybook: Language Arts & Basic English
It's a beautiful day with a
clear sky. A great number of high schoolers are on the street. Days for work have come.
I's cold enough to be working
early in the morning.
I said that I was unhappy
facing a mountain of work. I DO take pleasure, however, in writing if the air is not very wet and warm. One way to get over the trouble is to do my work late at night or early in the morning. My mind does its work better in the quiet. It may be good, in different times of the year, to have different working hours. A simpler way to overcome the heat is to make the room air-conditioned, but it might be a greater use of electric power which might be burning more oil, making the earth warmer.
I'm looking for a way to send
a longer note, longer than one line. Have I got it? It seems that I've got it. Great! Now I'm able to put a longer note. I probably had a wrong idea of this small machine. Now I'm sending this out to my Daybook. But is it possible [to] make the note longer again? Yes. It seems possible. I'm happy.
Summer or Fall?
The island was very warm, so my skin was frequently wet. But I was happy with my wet skin because there was a soft wind most of the time. The only sign of fall time was a dragonfly
, an insect with a long tail and long wings, going in the clear air.
Fukushima is still warm in the daytime, with those insects making metal-like noise. I'm unhappy with my wet skin and a mountain of work to do. The air is wet an unclear, with litlle wind. I'm hoping it will be cold enough in the night.
I've been to a small island in
the southwest of Kyushu, helping my family and making friends.
We're having very warm days
with quick and strong rainfalls before sundown.
The air is full of metal-like sound given out by some sorts of insect. The sound is like that of rain.
The insect, after the sleep of six years in the earth, comes out on a summer morning, goes up a tree, makes its clear skin open, and gets out of it, in the new form with wings. It goes in the air, puts its mouth-pipe through the skin of a tree, takes water out of the tree as its food, giving out its sound. After a week of its work, or play, it goes to death.
Some of them give out the sound like a short talk. Some give out high bird-like sound about the time of sundown. The sounds of those insects among the trees are in everyone's memory in Japan, as the sound of late summer.
Almost every boy in Japan has a memory of getting one of those insects by quickly moving a bag of net fixed at the end of a long stick.
What is interesting is that the wordbooks for haiku-writers give a statement that the insect is a sign of the time which comes AFTER summer. They say that the insects are sign of fall. Their sounds, or noises, may be saying: "Fall is coming. Fall is coming."
But most of us, common Japanese, have a feeling that they are THE insects of summer. They may be saying: "Summer is going. Summer is going."
The name of the insect is "cicada."
Every day is a good day.
My birthplace was in the heat of the sun and of the summer event. It was very very warm and my clothings quickly got wet.
We had good times meeting my father in law, my mother in law, making and having a night-meal in the garden, watching television, having talks, seeing my brother in law with his baby-boy, seeing my mother, going to an art museum, looking after my son playing in the water, walking among new artworks, and taking food and drinks.
The train journey back to my living place was good. I'm generally for trains when going over a long distance; they make me less tired, give me better views through the window, and give me time for reading.
Now I'm on a highway-bus to
the town of my birth, where my mother is still living.
No. It's 14.
Five, seven and five.
It may be good for writing
haiku, a Japanese verse made of 12 sound-units.