A reflective essay set in Kyoto’s springtime, suggesting that just as nature follows its laws, human society is guided by a quiet principle: authentic words inevitably reach authentic people and help restore balance.

2016-03-21
Today was truly clear, so I headed to Arashiyama, which is the garden of my home. I had already decided to have lunch at a favorite place in Gion.
I had never realized how convenient the Hankyu line is for traveling from Arashiyama to Gion.
As I had hoped, I enjoyed tempura made from Kyoto’s spring vegetables and delicious soba.
At Maruyama Park, where I then headed, the weeping cherry tree that Mr. Sano had carefully nurtured—one that could be called the symbol of Maruyama Park and had recently been featured on NHK—had begun to bloom.
As I walked further into the park, I found a weeping cherry tree fully tinged with pink. Many women in traditional kimono were gathered on the hills of Higashiyama, which alone was beautiful, but especially beautiful people had gathered around this particular cherry tree to take photographs. It created a remarkably fine scene. It might be said that the beauty of the people complemented the cherry blossoms just beginning to bloom.
When I returned home and opened my email, I found that a wonderful woman who runs a law firm in the United States had liked and retweeted an essay I had sent out to the world the day before.
Just as with the birds, led by the kingfisher, I am convinced that, like the laws of nature, there exists a law among human beings as well: true words are conveyed to true people and, in doing so, set the human world right.