Touched
I met this elderly gentleman at a cemetery in Nippori which has a beautiful yet little-known sakura tunnel (not the one pictured). I was walking behind him and noticed that he would stop at every tree, touch the trunk gently, gaze up for a moment as if he was talking to it, then move on to the next one. Maybe he has a loved one buried there and he was thanking them for watching over the person. Maybe these trees hold special memories for him. Whatever it is, he touched me.
Doing yoga weekly in what appears to be a store room teaches one to be zen.
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