A scene from Gifted Hands Part II

Yesterday while we were here at Bandon by the Sea I continued to work on Part II of the just released novel Gifted Hands: Sainoo no aru te. The working title could well be Nagasaki Spring. There is probably already a book by that name. Japan in general is at its best in the springtime. It has a very temperate climate and winters are quite severe in most of the country. But summers are hot and humid preceded in most of the country by monsoon rains. So housing is built for cooling and ventilation. So when spring comes people can open the windows and sliding doors and let the fresh air in. It is a natural environment for the azalea and rhododendron, dogwood, wisteria, flowering cherry, and in the spring especially the azalea, rhododendron and dogwood come out on the hillsides and parks in abundance. Azalea festival in Japan

In the town where we lived, Isahaya, near Nagasaki, a Butte made up a good part of Isahaya Park. It was covered with all three of the plants I just mentioned: azalea, rhododendron and dogwood. Unlike many of the big flower viewing festivals of Japan it was not connected to a temple. The atmosphere was more relaxed and free.

I wanted Charlie the artist to go there to see if he could get a sketch during the week of someone enjoying the flowers without the crowds of the weekend. Here is a paragraph.

A young woman he had seen on the bridge, with her baby in a sling held to her chest, came into view. She walked slowly. Her hands were behind her, held in the pit of her back. She was admiring the azalea. She seemed to be talking to her baby as she paused and examined the blossoms. She pulled a spring close into the direct line of sight of the baby and bent her head and her lips moved as though she was telling the infant the name of the variety. She looked around. A small white butterfly flitted by and she pointed to it and seemed to turn her body to orient the baby so it could track the butterfly’s flight path. The baby kicked its feet, waved its arms and laughed. The delighted mother reached the benches and dropped into the bench opposite Charlie. She seemed oblivious to his presence. She took the infant out of the sling, turned it around facing her and presented a breast for it to begin nursing.

The woman looked up and seemed aware of Charlie for the first time. She continued to nurse her child nonchalantly. They were probably eight feet apart. “Ano nei, anata no, akachan, na mai wa desu ka?” (Uh, what is your child’s name) Charlie asked in broken Japanese.

“My baby name is Nori kun,” she said in English. “Who are you?”