New Hakone Highway
Her father and older sisters have walked on ahead and out of sight. They’re dumb.
She’s smart. She’s counting the steps. Which is hard when you are approaching a hundred steps, and you are four years old, and you’re not sure how many steps there are.
And it’s hard to count the steps out loud when you are out of breath. But it’s fine, you’re with your mother. She stops when you stop. You know she’ll be with you all day.
The mother has stopped counting steps. She only counts to three. Children: over and over.
Her days now pass uncounted and unnamed. Years are getting blurry: Fire Ox, Water Dragon, Earth Dog.
You get to see it both ways with children. So many times you know the outcome, yet get a sense of discovering the story anew through them. Don’t provide spoilers, pretend to be surprised at the ending.
Sometimes, the ending actually changes. It’s your child’s story now.
Somewhere between steps 88 and 99, you put out your hand to help this little one, but she shakes it off, deep in concentration.
Quick, what is the name of this feeling? Before it dissipates down the stairs.
ascending
my open desiring hand
forced to let go
神奈川県立 恩賜箱根公園, Fuji-Hakone-Izu National Park, Hakone, Ashigarashimo-Gun, Kanagawa, Japan. 9/15/2023.
