The thirtieth, we are stopping at a place in the foothills of Mount Nikko. The owner of the inn approached us. "People call me Buddha Gozaemon," he said, "I am honest in all my dealings - people will tell you as much - so spend a night of your travels at ease in my little inn." Had the Buddha appeared, then, in temporary form in this corrupt world of ours, perhaps to save one like myself, a mendicant or pilgrim in the habit of an itinerant priest? If one examined the innkeeper's conduct closely, one would discover no calculation or worldliness, only a thoroughly honest man. He was a kind such as the Confucian Analects speak of, with a strength of will and rugged honesty close to the ideal virtue - an admirable purity of disposition.

The first of the Fourth Month, we worshiped at the shrine on this mountain. Long ago the characters used for Mount Nikko were the "Niko" meaning "Double Rough," but when the Great Teacher Kukai set up a temple here, he changed the name to "Nikko" or "Sun's Radiance." It is not clear whether or not he had foreseen what would be a thousand years later, but now the light of this radiant place reaches everywhere, extending the benefit of the temple to the last corner of the country, assisting all four classes in the peaceable and prosperous conduct fo their affairs. More might be said, but feeling hesitant at such a place, I put aside my brush.

As all begins afresh,
On the green leaves, on the young leaves
The brightness of the sun.

It is strange to see the late spring haze draping Blackhair Mountain, and patches of white snow lingering whitely, also belying its name. As Sora put it:

Shaving off the old,
Here beneath Blackhair Mountain,
We don summer clothes.

Sora belongs to the Kawai clan, but his given name is Sogoro. His house was so close to mine that its eaves touched the fonds of my Banana Plant Hut, and he helps me with my kitchen work. Now he is with me on this trip, taking pleasure in being able to look on Matsushima and Kisa Bay, willing to endure the hardships of travel. On the morning we set out, he took the tonsure, put on a priest's black robes and changed the characters for his given name, Sogo, from those with a worldly meaning to others with a religious significance. It was in connection with these matters that he wrote his poem on Blackhair Mountain. Since there is a deeper religious significance to the changing of clothes, that last line has special significance.

Climbing the mountainside for half a mile or so up from the shrine, we came upon a waterfall. It flew down a hundred feet or more from cavernous boulders at the peak to hundreds of rocks below, gathering at last into a fresh, clear pool. Because one can enter a hollow in the rocks and see the cascade from behind, it is called Rearview Falls.

For a little while
Hidden in the hermitage of the falls,
Starting summer seclusion.