High Skies, an Autumn of Encounters | Kikuko Ota (Dean, Faculty of Nursing and Medical Care)

2010.11.22

Autumn is my favorite season of the year. The blue sky is clear, and white, sheep-like clouds reveal the height of the heavens.

They say the autumn leaves are exceptionally beautiful this year, thanks to a good balance after the intense summer heat and long autumn rains. I used to visit the Naruko Onsen area in Miyagi Prefecture for several years for my research, and I was so captivated by the stunning beauty of the autumn foliage that I almost lost focus while driving on many occasions. The mountains, a mixture of broad-leaved and coniferous trees, formed a brocade of various reds, yellows, and greens, shining brilliantly in the sunlight and further enhanced by the blue of the sky. I remember thinking how wonderful it would be to live in such a beautiful place, oblivious to the harshness of its winters. I also came to realize that the brilliance of the colors varies subtly from year to year.

Then this year, in the middle of a storm before the autumn leaves had started to turn, a puppy came into our home. His name is Tsukasa, and we welcomed him as a little brother for Taro. He was small enough to fit easily in one hand, and even his gentle nibbling was cute. I never knew Taro when he was a puppy and had always thought how adorable he must have been, so I finally decided to try raising one from puppyhood.

For the first day or two, he was timid, but day by day his barks grew louder, and his whines for attention and urgent cries became distinct. I was almost bewildered by the gap between the strength and volume of his demands and his tiny size when I looked at him up close. He watches very closely what the residents of the house are doing. About a week later, our house suddenly and unexpectedly flooded, and there was a huge commotion as we panicked, bailing out water, moving things, and cleaning up. Amidst the intense tension, he endured it all quietly in his crate without a sound.

It is a daily battle between Tsukasa, who wants to have his own way, and us, the residents, who want him to adapt to our pace of life. It has been almost a month since he came to our home. We took him for his first walk in the neighborhood, his head peeking out of a shoulder bag, and we admired the autumn colors of the cherry trees. His hearty appetite is full of life, his bite has grown stronger, and when I pick up his quick, bouncing body, the weight in my hand has become more substantial. It is an autumn of a fattening Tsukasa.

(Posted on: 2010/11/22)