Comparing landscapes to lifeshapes seems natural. A mountain near San Francisco is sometimes called “the sleeping Indian princess.” From different angles, one imagines postures for Mount Tamalpais.
Three hills stand near my apartment in Kyoto, a river valley surrounded by hills on three sides.
“Let’s go up to the roof,” I encourage visitors from out of town.
We can identify the famous hills with large markings in which there are summer fire ceremonies. But I did not know that the small hills had names.
After a day of sightseeing, strolling and learning local names and histories, we eat dinner in the apartment. The cat lays at the window.
“Takagamine!” exclaims Kazushi, pointing at the cat.
It is the name of one of the hills.
“Exactly,” I reply.
