Should the purpose of summer really be to be so terribly loathsome that all other seasons seem like paradise in comparison? I think not, but this scenario seems to be in effect in Tokyo; now that summer's past and I've been able to appraise a full 365 day cycle of Tokyo weather patterns I am convinced that the above may be summer's only redeeming quality. Which is ok, October has been awesome minus its brief fling with torrential rain. Now it's cool and clear . . . on Thursday, down by the once-festering Tamagawa, I encountered a peaceful scene of bicyclists, retirees, construction workers, senior members of a camera club*, children, tired cats and freshly-mown lawn to accompany me on my lazy run. It was fantastic. Since I'm repeating one Tokyo season, actually, I'm really glad it's autumn. Anyway, happy anniversary Tokyo. I guess you've treated me well. I hope it's been mutual. And I appricate that you didn't deport me even though I renewed my VISA just two days before the deadline. Thanks.

Nothing thus far has caused me to lose faith in my weekly totally personalized Metropolis Horoscope** . . . nothing until I read this. All of a sudden I'm beginning to feel there is no solid ground after all. No solid ground except the BBC's News In Pictures, upon which I have a heavy, potentially-unhealthy reliance. I wonder if this sort of media is really news? I just don't know anymore . . .

* Seriously, these guys had foodball-sideline quality lenses. No Joking Around.
** Four Yen Signs? Two Hearts? Three Clovers? It doesn't get much better.