Kyoto in Tsuyu, Moss Season

In June it rains for a month, and the moss throws a party.

In June Kyoto enters tsuyu, the plum rain, and visitors complain about it in hotel lobbies across the city. I would like to defend the rain. It is the only time the moss is truly awake, and the only time the temples are quiet enough to hear it.

I began late and slowly at Nanzen-ji, where the old brick aqueduct is dark with water and ferns grow out of the arches like green eyebrows. Then the Philosopher's Path, under an umbrella, with the canal running fast and hydrangeas nodding on both banks in blue and violet.

At Ginkaku-ji the sand garden was raked in perfect lines that the rain was slowly softening. The moss looked like velvet left out overnight. An elderly gardener was picking leaves out of it with chopsticks. I watched him for ten minutes and he did not look up once.

Lunch was hot soba at Soba-dokoro Amaoto, with a slice of green onion floating like a small raft. In the afternoon I went to the Kamo Delta at Demachiyanagi to watch the turtle stepping stones, half underwater, and one brave student crossing them with his umbrella and his dignity. Evening was a pot of hōjicha at Chashitsu Kasa no Shita, rain on the roof, no reason to go anywhere.

Lived June 20, 2026.