Mount Fuji, emblem of Japan.
You can’t always see Mount Fuji. But we’ve been lucky enough to have some moments when we could see her.
Fuji was kind enough to show herself for a half a second as our plane turned to make the approach to Haneda Airport. The glimpse was brief, a fleeting moment of stratovolcano’s symmetric cone piercing a deck of stratus clouds. No photo.
The next view was on a day when we were hiking the ridge above where we were staying in Yokosuka. We’d climbed a small observation tower to get a look at the surrounding territory, were looking about, when C. said, “Look! There’s Mount Fuji!”.
“Where?”, said I. “Through those wires…”responded C.
There was Fuji’s snow-sapped crown, floating above where I had been looking, her base obscured by distant mist.
Our next views of Fuji came on our road trip to Kyoto. There are too many to comment on all of them.
You’ll have to enjoy them without words.
Sometimes that’s better.
It was getting dark.
The highway changed direction.
We were losing sight of her.
Here’s the last good shot.