Like Fuji scorned


Sometimes I look across the bay at Mt. Fuji to see one of the most majestic scenes in Japan. It's easy to forget that Mt. Fuji is an active volcano. If she were to spew angry ash across the land, we would all be devastated. Mt. Fuji is also a beautiful woman. She stands tall in the room and draws in everyone’s gaze. Even on her hazy days, she’s lovely like rain on the lush green fabric of her gown or the snowy garland that sits upon her head. Her moods are many. Sometimes she's timid behind a wispy veil and sometimes regal under the sun. Heaven forbit we incur her wrath. In that fit of anger, she could scorch the earth so severely there would be nothing to salvage but the memory of happier times. I once knew a woman like that. She was hypnotic to gaze upon until the rumbling earth beneath her feet spat up hot magma to burn me down, like a single conifer, to the lonesome ground.

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