It's not really a destination. But this temple, in the Numabukuro section of Nakano, Tokyo, is one of my favorite spots in the city. A temple. A cemetery. The smallest of parks. Green. And a "no photography" sign at the entrance to the 180 statues, which does add to the tranquility.

It would be extremely niche. Perhaps only worth looking at for a few moments. A renovated and converted storehouse. A place to live. And a place for your business (with a business proposal conditional for staying there). Okayama. bukkenfan.jp/e/8964999688...

An unusual number of neighbors this weekend in Nikko. (As opposed to when in Koenji. When it’s mostly unusual neighbors.)

“Lord Frith, I know you’ve looked after us well, and it’s wrong to ask even more of you, but My People are in terrible danger. So I would like to make bargain with you. My life, in return for theirs.”

When one season says to the other, “Here, now it’s your turn.” The bush warblers and the evening cicadas. A backyard in Nikko. July.

It’s not terribly exciting social media. But I can assure you it’s honest.

There is a deer below me, only a few meters away, in the grass beyond the edge of the deck. It has not yet noticed me, but I have noticed it, because my wife is in the bathroom and I really really really needed someplace to pee.

Yes, I will buy some ridiculously sharpened used knives from your mobile laboratory in this supermarket parking lot.

A sudden and intense desire to destroy this chicken sandwich and Shiga Kogen IPA at El Pato in Koenji. Alas. They no longer open for Sunday brunch.

That’s how the week concludes.

The season for rain and fog. Nikko. The first weekend in July.

Oversharing from the Family Chat. My father, born and raised in Brooklyn, there at the bottom. And because perhaps this might be worth the slightest of nods from those who have lived overseas for any length of time.

Old and generously praised as simple. If you are of the school that says windows in Tokyo are for the sides of buildings and not for skylights, then this would be an interesting choice for you to pause a moment with. Koenji. Near Wadabori Park. www.realtokyoestate.co.jp/estate.php?n...

And then a bit of clearing. An apartment in Koenji. The last Saturday in June.

Under the train tracks. Koenji. The last weekend in June. Because you always need something to look forward to.

A Sunday morning. Of the sort when you wrap a blanket round your shoulders before stepping outside.

The face of don’t-clean-my-butt rage.

Halal Cheezy. Nakano, Tokyo. The best, presumably, halal New York style pizza in Tokyo.

The Weather Shrine. Koenji, Tokyo. What was June 1st.

There was the eating of ice cream.

“All the world will be your enemy, Prince with a Thousand Enemies, and whenever they catch you, they will kill you. But first they must catch you, digger, listener, runner, prince with the swift warning. Be cunning and full of tricks and your people shall never be destroyed.”

Checking the sky before bed on the last Friday in May. Koenji, Tokyo.

And a different perspective.

When you will happily eat your medicine-spiked mashed banana but your front legs don’t quite work that well on the wood floor.

The rabbit version of the cold shoulder. Or just too lazy to keep pushing.

Because one day, perhaps not that far off, you too will be old and arthritic and your world be redefined by where, and where not, you can comfortably hop.

🎼 Another perfect day They keep pilin' up I got happiness that I can maintain So beginner's luck 🎼

My wife, for all her gifts, has an extraordinary ability to maim, to destroy, to annihilate, to wound, to incapacitate, to render beyond resuscitation, nearly any flower she plants by sunset the following day. That this tiny patch of space on Earth remains beautiful is worth celebrating.

The badger behind me, bothered neither by my presence nor John Smoltz’s ramblings on the Fox Game Of the Week. So it has surpassed me on both accounts.