Special Selection for the 2022/2023 Winter Holiday Issue
Nonfiction by Victoria Clayton
Dear Mount Kenashi,
Our journey together started years before I first met you in the winter of ‘16. It was our first-time being introduced and to be honest, I wasn’t particularly enamored by you. You seemed cold and aloof, mysterious, and strange. To get to know you seemed rather arduous. Other things sparked my interest more, the warm embrace of hot spring waters, easy on the eyes snow-covered landscapes and sweet tasting fruits – all much more charming and needing less effort on my part.
For a few days we brushed shoulders, caught on the edges of one another’s existence. To be honest, I thought you were slightly brash and coupled with my inexperience I found myself constantly tripping over myself around you. However, I will admit, we did have a few good runs together but nothing like how others gushed of you. After that brief encounter we parted ways, said our pleasant goodbyes and despite my best intentions I never really expected to see you again. It wasn’t love at first sight, or ride. And I left you, with some fond memories and large indifference; but still, I did promise to call you again, someday.
Years passed by and my desire to see you grew further from my mind. Then this summer, I met some people who knew you. They spoke of your wonder, your warmth, and I knew I had to see you again. Five years later, to the day I found myself in the exact same spot, but this time round, I decided that I would try and get to know you.
It started like any dream would with snowy skies and easy rides. Green fueled adrenaline rushed through my being, and I couldn’t get enough of you. I rose early every morning to come and be with you until the last hours of daylight slipped below the horizon. For a short while the smooth, effortless gliding through the uncomplicated terrain of a new love as light as the morning’s freshly fallen snow was all I needed.
That was, until we hit our first challenge. Everyone who witnessed our whirlwind thought we were ready. Oh, how wrong they were. Ill-prepared for this first confrontation, we ended free-falling down the side of a slippery slope with nothing under our feet to grip on to. The honeymoon had hardened, and your colder side was revealed. Feeling humiliated and hurt I stumbled back into the arms of an old companion and warmed my weary body in healing waters. The next day, persuaded to reconcile, we tried again to find a solution, but neither of us had changed. I walked away tired and bruised; I needed a break.
In our time apart, I dreamt of you every night, your softness, your serenity. In waking hours, I tried to distract myself from thinking of you yet always found myself back, lost daydreaming in old albums. Determined to make it work I came back to see you. This time there was no blizzard or storm just blue skies propping up the illusion of harmony. I still dared not to reapproach the path of where we both got lost. I just wanted to have fun with you again. So, we did, all while ignoring the elephant in the room or rather the tanuki on the mountain.
Victoria Clayton is an artist, writer and wanderer living and working in western Japan.
