Japan’s Leaf Peeping Splendor

by Jamie Rhein on

Leaf Peeping in Ohio is probably going to be a big bust this year. It’s been 90 degrees lately, and today’s temperature drop may be a little too late. Basically, we’re looking at a fall of mostly dull yellow and brown. Perhaps, Japan will have more luck.

While I was hunting for links to leaf viewing via vintage trains, I came across details about Japan’s autumn splendor on a Frommer’s Web site. In the Honshu region of the country, colors pop out in the fall. I went to Nara on a day trip from Kyoto in the middle of summer when the maple trees around the temples were thick with green leaves. In October and November, they become brilliant orange and red around Todaiji Temple.

Kyoto, where I became obsessed with going to as many temples as I could for some reason, has ginko trees galore. They were green when I saw them, but, according to Frommers, become an awesome yellow in November. Frommers also recommends Kamakura and Nikko for their leaves. Not just their leaves. The temples–yep, I hit them–are wonderful. Nikko is has the famous one of the see no, hear no, speak no evil monkeys. I went to both towns as day trips out of Tokyo. (I had a free place to stay in Tokyo, so in the seven days I spent in Japan I only stayed overnight elsewhere once. Kyoto was it.)

The Kyoto Tourism Federation also has a section dedicated to leaf viewing. November is also the month with the best colors according to this source. In addition to places to see in Kyoto, several towns are listed, along with what to see when you go there. One suggestion is Nagaokakyo, which is quite close to Kyoto and the site of this lovely photo.

Band on the Run: The Defiant Nature of Rte 4, Fort Lee, NJ

by Ember Swift on

Ember Swift, Canadian musician and touring performer, will be keeping us up-to-date on what it’s like to tour a band throughout North America. Having just arrived back from Beijing where she spent three months (check out her “Canadian in Beijing” series), she offers a musician’s perspective on road life.


Fort Lee, NJ seemed to have the closest and most reasonable hotel we could get that was near to Manhattan without yet crossing the bridge (or tunnel). Seems to me that accommodations on the other side of the bridge go up about three hundred percent and so we decided to make our “Two Nights in New York” actually be one in New Jersey, one in Brooklyn.

We stayed at a little hotel called the Courtesy Inn in Fort Lee, NJ, just before the George Washington Bridge. It was on Route #4, a smaller highway that leads to the I-95 and holds the requisite number of hotels for travellers like us. It’s kind of an ugly service road, to be blunt, but I did find something unique about this particular roadway: its defiant nature.

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Yeah, you wouldn’t think so, but nature has come on full force on this motorway. The center of the highway is filled with sumac and goldenrod, wild grape vines and tall grasses that have been so long neglected that they have started to form a canopy across the center meridian that cascades over the left lane.

There is an abandoned gas station here as well. It’s almost unrecognizable from the road as what it once was as a result of the overgrowth. Perhaps this is how the world will look when we’re all gone. (Yeah, that seems to be my current theme and I’m sticking with it.)

The Courtesy Inn was a trip in and of itself. Filled with mirrors on every surface, I nearly had a heart attack when I woke up and was staring at myself on the bed in the mirror on the ceiling. Strange to see yourself first thing in the morning, actually, and it rocketed me into consciousness and far from the dreams that had been so consuming just moments before. I packed up and put my stuff in the van and told Lyndell I was heading for a quick walk.

She waited in the van as I backtracked down the motorway past a car repair place and a functioning gas station until I reached the abandoned lot. Only five minutes or so from the hotel but it seemed like I was walking into another world. If I could block out the constant rush of traffic behind me, I could easily have been in a remote town that was being reclaimed by Mother Nature on all sides – but, in this case, three of the four sides.

The old gas station and auto center was boarded up and the asphalt was cracked everywhere. The weeds and trees were popping up through the cracks, lining the lot with green. Even the fences around the lot seemed camouflaged by the weeds as they grew in and out of the metal weave. I took some pictures over the fence, rusted with time, and then kept walking to the next lot, also abandoned, that wasn’t blocked by a fence.

As I approached the boarded up structure, I almost jumped out of my skin when I noticed a foot sticking out from behind a gap in the building. The foot had a shoe on it and looked like it was just resting on the sidewalk. My heart rose to my throat but I reminded myself that I was in clear view of the whole busy road and it was the middle of the day. That was enough to settle my nerves and so I stepped a little closer and saw that between this small outer building and the larger building, there was a small causeway in which a man was sitting on a lawn chair reading a newspaper. He almost jumped out of his skin when he saw me too and his paper crackled his surprise.

I just smiled and moved farther into the lot, away from his spot, but not without noticing he was wearing a garage work shirt with his name patch over the left pocket and had a lunch box open on the pavement beside him. I took a few more pictures on the other side of the lot before coming back in his direction. I asked him if he worked there and he said yes, but then pointed to the garage up the way, closer to the hotel we had stayed at. I realized that he did not speak English as a first language when I asked him if this was where he took his break and he just stared at me uncomprehending. I didn’t pursue it, just smiled and took my leave. I felt as though I was invading his quiet time. This was his spot and I was just an intruder.

I walked back to the hotel parking lot feeling moved by the redefinition of space from a commercial lot to a partial park, from a public retail space to a private hide-out, from asphalt to green in likely just a handful of years.

Remarkable.

Nature is so powerful. Doesn’t take long and our lifeless creations crack open and get replaced by the life that belongs.

Right on.

Photo of the Day (7/7/07)

by Adrienne Wilson on


Butterflies are some of nature’s most delicate fluttering creatures. So when they are captured with wings fully spread, relaxing on the soft pink petals of a flower and posing for a passing photographer in the Ecuadorian Amazon they must also be granted a moment of fame on Gadling. This POTD was taken by fiznatty and several other beautiful butterflies and creepy crawlers from Ecuador can be found in the Gadling Flickr pool.

Butterfly Houses: Fluttering Wonderlands in the U.S.

by Jamie Rhein on

Walking among butterflies has become a real crowd pleaser and money maker. Blooms & Butterflies at the Franklin Park Conservatory in Columbus, Ohio is an annual occassion because of the people it draws to the conservatory. Plus, the butterflies are downright gorgeous and watching butterflies develop in the various stages is part of the attraction. Each day new butterflies are released at 1:00 and 3 p.m. where they fly about among the lush plants and visitors in the Pacific Island Water Garden section. Each year I head to this event for the splendor and buy a catepillar kit so we can watch the butterfly development stages at home.

Franklin Park Conservatory is only one of the more than 100 butterfly exhibit locations in the U.S. Here’s a link to a website that lists them in each state. Here are 9 of them.

Photo of the Day (5/19/07)

by Adrienne Wilson on


Hungry hippo? I’d say so. Then again it could be just a little aggravated by the camera and every thing else looking down its throat. The teeth look dull like old rotten wood, but I’ll let you do the investigating. Nice in your mouth animal shot ohad*.