エアコンにどっぷり

＜　「小学校の記憶」　デジタル　2025-07-24　＞

アジサイと田んぼを描いてから1か月半、ときどき傍を通りますが稲の茎はしっかり成長して青々としています。もうすぐ穂が出て花をつけるでしょう。毎日見ていて気づかないことでも 1か月半では変化がはっきり見えます。

今年の夏も連日35℃前後の猛暑が続いています。子供の頃は35℃になるのはひと夏に数度しかなかったのが、このごろは日常茶飯事です。スイスでは氷河の崩落で谷の一村が壊滅しました。地球規模の温暖化は確実に進んでいるようです。皆が気づいていても毎日の生活は、おかしな話ですが、そのためには特段の変化はありません。たぶん変化の規模があまりにも大きいし、81億人もの人たちに影響が出るからだと思います。

そんなことを考える一方、エアコンで居心地よくした部屋で、むかし通った小学校を思い出しながらのスケッチです。校庭からよく見えた名古屋城の清州櫓（北西櫓）はいまも健在です。5年か6年生の頃に竣工した鉄筋コンクリートの校舎は、70年近く経った今でも使われているようです。

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Immersed in Air Conditioning

It’s been a month and a half since I painted the hydrangeas and rice fields. I sometimes pass by that spot, and the rice stalks have grown tall and lush. Before long, they’ll start to form ears and bloom. While daily changes often go unnoticed, a month and a half is enough time to clearly see the transformation of the rice fields.

This summer, too, has brought intense heat, with temperatures hovering around 35°C day after day. When I was a child, such temperatures would occur only a few times during the entire summer—but now, it’s become routine. In Switzerland, a village in a valley was destroyed by a collapsing glacier. Global warming seems to be steadily progressing. Even though we’re all aware of it, oddly enough, our daily lives continue with little change. Perhaps it’s because the scale of change is just too vast, and the lives of 8.1 billion people depend on the current way of living.

While thinking about this, I sat sketching in the comfort of an air-conditioned room, reminiscing about the school I attended in elementary years. The Kiyosu Turret (Northwest Turret) of Nagoya Castle, which was clearly visible from the schoolyard, still stands today. The reinforced concrete school building, completed when I was in the 5th or 6th grade, is apparently still in use nearly 70 years later.     (with help of ChatGPT)

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駅への近道で

＜　アジサイの咲くころ　油彩　F6　2025-06-13　＞

去年も今ごろアジサイを描きました。やはり梅雨空によく目立つ 大きな花と、鮮やかな色が目を惹くのだと思います。雨の中では一層美しく見えます。しかし去年は梅雨にあまり雨が降らず暑かったため、アジサイがあまり目立たなかったきがします。今年も梅雨入りしたばかりに晴れて30℃以上の日が続いたので、また去年のようになる気配です。

ときどき駅に出るのに近道を使います。途中 3枚ほどの田んぼがあります。6月半ばでしたがそばを通ると、田んぼには水が入り小型の田植え機もありました。3時間ぐらいしてそこをまた通ると、苗を植え終えた涼し気な田んぼに変わっていて、田植えがこんなに簡単に済んでしまうのかと驚きました。もちろん小さい田んぼだし、機械を使うのは分っていますが、私の中には昔ながらの手植えの風景の 記憶がまだ残っているみたいです。早乙女姿の代わりにアジサイが綺麗でした。

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On the shortcut to the station

Around this time last year, I also painted hydrangeas. I suppose it’s because their large blossoms and vivid colors stand out so well against the gloomy skies of the rainy season. They look especially beautiful in the rain. However, last year, the rainy season was unusually dry and hot, so the hydrangeas didn't seem to stand out as much. This year, too, although the rainy season has officially started, the weather has been sunny and over 30°C for several days in a row, and I have a feeling it may turn out like last year again.

From time to time, I take a shortcut to the station. Along the way, there are about three rice fields. It was mid-June when I passed by and saw that the fields had been filled with water, and a small rice-planting machine was there. About a few hours later, when I passed the same spot again, I was surprised to see that the rice plantings had already been completed and the fields had transformed into refreshing paddies. I was amazed at how quickly rice planting could be completed. Of course, I know these are small fields and that machines are used now. It seems I still carry memories of the old-fashioned scenes of hand-planting. Instead of young women planting in traditional "saotome" attire, it was the hydrangeas that stood beautifully this time.   (with help of ChatGTP)

いい夏が来て欲しい

＜　野蒜海岸にて　デジタル　2024/08/06　＞

去年の夏のスケッチです。仙台に出かけた時はたいてい寄るこおにしている、奥松島と呼ばれるところにある野蒜海岸です。小高い丘に登ると、西には点在する松島の島々、東には海越しに石巻の街が遠望できます。訪れたのは震災後2度目でした。高い防潮堤が延々と続き辺りも整備されて、かつてあった背の高い松原はなくなっていました。復興工事の騒音は去って、波静かな海から強い風が防潮堤を吹き抜けていました。

イスラエルのガザ市民への攻撃は続いています。この3日間で500人が死亡したとニュースで聞きました。食料も入らず ガザを人の住めない土地にしようとしているみたいです。また、ウクライナ、ロシアの停戦は少しも進んでいないようです。それだけでなく 一般市民への攻撃は絶え間なく続いているようです。持てる側が戦争を有利に終わらせようと、破壊と死者を増やしているように見えます。　 (05/19)

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Expecting a good summer to come

This is a sketch from last summer. It depicts Nobiru Beach, located in an area called Oku-Matsushima, a place I almost always visit whenever I go to Sendai. When you climb a small hill there, you can see the scattered islands of Matsushima to the west, and in the distance to the east, the city of Ishinomaki beyond the sea. It was my second visit since the earthquake and tsunami disaster. A tall seawall now stretches endlessly along the coast, and the area has been redeveloped. The tall pine groves that once stood there are gone. The noise of the reconstruction work has faded, and a strong wind now blows through the seawall from the calm sea.

The attacks on civilians in Gaza by Israel continue. I heard on the news that 500 people have died in the past three days. With food supplies blocked, it seems as if they are trying to make Gaza an uninhabitable land. Meanwhile, the ceasefire between Ukraine and Russia appears to be making no progress. Not only that, but attacks on civilians seem to be continuing without pause. It looks as though those with power are trying to end the war to their advantage by escalating destruction and increasing the number of deaths.  ( 05/19  with help of ChatGTP)

期待はできるの？

＜　早川の夕桜　油彩　F6　2025-04-07　＞

以前は田んぼだったところが、いつごろからか草やススキが生える原っぱになって、田植え前の田起こしや代搔きの光景が見れなくなりました。農家の高齢化や後継ぎ不足の影響なのかもしれません。季節の風情が少しづつ減っていますが、ついこの前まで近くの川沿いの桜が綺麗に咲いて、いつもより1週間も長く楽しめました。

前年が不作だったわけではないのに、この1年で日本人の主食、コメの値段は倍以上になってしまいました。初め、新米が出回るようになれば価格は落ち着くと国は説明していましたが、 実際には反対でした。続いて、備蓄米を放出して流通量を増やしましたがやはり値段の上昇は続きました。最近になって、備蓄米を毎月放出することと卸売業者に行き届きやすくするよう策を変更しました。

放出米の入札価格は公表されていないし、円滑に流通するかどうかまだ分かりません。そのため値下がりを期待しようがなく、ただ「下がるまでじっと待て」と言われているみたいです。効果が出るのかそれとも茶番劇で終わるのか、結果はまだ先になりそうです。 

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Can I expect a price down? 

The area that used to be a rice field has, at some point, turned into a meadow where grass and pampas grass grow. The once-familiar sights of plowing and puddling the fields before rice planting are no longer seen. This may be due to the aging population of farmers and the lack of successors. The seasonal atmosphere is gradually fading, but just recently, the cherry blossoms along the nearby river bloomed beautifully, and I was able to enjoy them for about a week longer than usual.

Even though last year's harvest wasn't a poor one, the price of rice—Japan's staple food—has more than doubled over the past year. At first, the government explained that prices would stabilize once the new rice entered the market, but the opposite happened. They then released stockpiled rice to increase supply, but prices continued to rise. More recently, the government changed its policy to release stockpiled rice on a monthly basis and to improve accessibility for wholesalers.

However, since the bid prices for the released rice haven't been disclosed, it's still unclear whether distribution will go smoothly. As a result, there's no solid reason to expect a price drop, and it feels as though we’re simply being told to “wait patiently until prices go down.” Whether this approach will prove effective or turn out to be just an empty gesture remains to be seen.

大らかなアメリカはどこに

＜　「大山早春」　油彩　F8　2025-03-17　＞

　大統領令に次から次にサインするトランプ大統領。圧倒的な力で 関税という拳銃を振り回す 西部劇の暴れん坊を想像します。気象情報に興味があり、ビジュアライズされた地球・気象予測が見られるサイト "earth" を時々使っています。台風の進路予想は たいへん役に立ちます。先日、画面に表示されたメッセージは衝撃的でした。"earth" は NAOO（国立海洋大気局）のスーパーコンピューターで計算、予測されたデータが基になっていますが、トランプ政権は NAOOの技術者や予算のカットを始めていて、現在のサービスが続けられなくなるかもしれないとありました。急激に大きな変化が起こっているようです。大らかで尊敬できるアメリカはどこに。

　私が住む辺りから見える 今ごろの大山（おおやま）です。背景に丹沢山系と真っ白に輝く富士山を携えて堂々として見えます。毎年2月になって街で冷たい雨が降ると、決まって大山は雪化粧して 春が近いのを知らせてくれます。今年は2月に雨がほとんど降らなかったせいで、3月にずれ込みました。

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Where Is Generous America Headed?

  President Trump signs executive orders one after another. It feels like watching a Wild West drama, where he wields a handgun called "tariffs" with overwhelming force.

  I often check the weather using the site Earth, which provides stunning visualizations of global weather patterns and forecasts. Predicting the path of a typhoon is especially valuable. However, a message displayed on the site the other day was alarming. Earth relies on data from a NOAA (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration) supercomputer, but the Trump administration has begun cutting NOAA’s engineers and budget. The message warned that current services might not be able to continue. Something unsettling is happening rapidly. Where is the generous and once-respected America headed?

  Meanwhile, this is Mt. Oyama in early spring as seen from my area. It stands dignified, with the Tanzawa Mountains in the background and Mount Fuji gleaming pure white. In February, when cold rain falls in the city, Mt. Oyama is often dusted with snow, a quiet reminder that spring is near. This year, however, February saw almost no rain—it arrived late, in March.

希望が見えてくる

＜　「希望のガザ」　デジタル　2025-02-24　＞

イスラエルとハマスの停戦が決まったころ、ガザの報道写真に惹きつけられました。歩いて北部に帰るパレスチナの人たちが写っていました。最初に飛び込んできたのは一面の廃墟の光景です。局所的に破壊された街の様子はこれまで何度も見ていました。しかし今度のような広範囲に破壊された街の様子は初めてでした。こんなにまで破壊されたのか、戦争とはこういうものなのか。破壊の方法は違っても、80年前の広島や長崎を思い出してしまいました。

続いて目にとまったのは、大きな荷物を背負い 北に向かって歩く大勢の人たちです。自分たちが住んでいた家に向かっているのだと想像しますが、辺りの様子から家はたぶん破壊されているでしょう。崩れて瓦礫になった家に住めるのだろうか。想像するだけでも痛々しいですが、それでも帰ろうとするのはなぜでしょうか。ちりぢりになっていた人々が少しずつ戻ってきて、笑ったり悲しんだり、お互い励まし合いながら生活できるコミュニティーがあるからのようなきがします。そんなことを考えさせてくれました。

English: Hope of Gaza

Around the time the Israeli-Hamas ceasefire was announced, I found myself drawn to press photos from Gaza. One image, in particular, stood out—Palestinians walking back to the north. The first thing that came to mind was the sight of abandoned ruins. I had seen images of destroyed streets before, but this was the first time I had witnessed such widespread devastation. Was it truly this obliterated? What does war look like up close? Though the circumstances were different, it reminded me of Hiroshima and Nagasaki 80 years ago.

Next, I noticed the large number of people walking north, carrying heavy luggage on their backs. I imagined they were returning to the homes they once lived in, but from what I could see, those homes had likely been reduced to rubble. Can one even live in a place that has collapsed? The thought alone was painful. And yet, why were they still trying to go home?

It felt as though, despite everything, a community was slowly coming back together. People who had been displaced were returning—bringing with them laughter, sorrow, and resilience—supporting one another as they rebuilt their lives. That thought stayed with me.

昔から変わらない遊び

＜　イチョウの広場　油彩　F10　2025-01-18　＞

ほのかにマシュマロの香りがするカツラの黄色い落ち葉、続いてイチョウが豪華な黄金色に変わり、モミジが茜色から熟れた柿色に変化し、最後はコナラの赤褐色が冬空に負けず頑張っていました。1か月以上楽しませてもらった紅葉は年の瀬が押し迫ったころに終わりました。夏の異常な暑さと関係があったのか分かりませんが、昨秋の紅葉は、早々に散った桜を除き、いつもより綺麗で長く続いたきがします。

子供たちの声が響きわたって賑わったのは、イチョウが散り終わる頃でした。絨毯を敷いたように積もった落葉は、子供たちの創造心を駆り立てたのか、いろんな遊びをして楽しんでいました。ビデオゲームに夢中になる年頃の子供たちでしたが、葉っぱを積み重ねたり並べ替えたり、柔らかな感触を楽しんでいるのか、落ち葉の上で追いかけっこしていました。昔から変わらない遊びに夢中になっている様子に心が和みました。

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Timeless Games

The yellow leaves of the katsura tree, with their faint marshmallow scent, fell first, soon followed by the ginkgo, turning a brilliant golden yellow. The maples transitioned from deep madder hues to ripe persimmon yellows, while the oaks, tinged with reddish-brown, stood strong against the winter sky. The autumn colors, which we enjoyed for more than a month, gradually faded as 2024 drew to a close. Perhaps it was the lingering effects of the unusually hot summer, but this year’s autumn leaves were more vibrant and longer-lasting than usual—though the cherry blossoms did fall early.

By the time the ginkgo trees had shed their leaves, the laughter of children filled the air, bringing the square to life. A thick carpet of fallen leaves became a canvas for their imagination, as they happily piled, stacked, and rearranged them, their play as simple as it was joyful. Though these children were at an age when video games usually held their attention, they were instead chasing one another across the leaves, perhaps relishing the soft texture beneath their feet. It was heartwarming to see them so deeply engrossed in these timeless games.

モンゴルの思い出

＜　「モンゴル回想」　A4 デジタル　2024-12-12　＞

訪れたのは夏休みの最後の日、小学生ぐらいの男の子が半牧半観(光)の親の仕事を手伝っていました。明日から学校に戻るのでしょう、みずみずしい刈上げ頭でした。初めて馬に乗った私の曳手を持って横を並歩してくれました。余りに単調だったのか そのうち体を前後に漕ぎはじめました。顔を覗くと居眠りでした。無邪気なものです。帰り道、慣れたこともあって今度はこちらが眠くなり、ちょっと目を閉じたつもりでしたが、少年は大声で私に何か喋り出しました。言葉は分らなくてもその勢いから何を伝えたいか分かりました。親から言われたことを忠実に守ったのでしょう。　がっしりした体格で客好きな主人、昼食にホーショール（ラムや牛のひき肉を小麦粉の生地で包み、油で揚げた家庭料理）を作ってくれた夫人、私には目もくれない犬、一つひとつ懐かしい思い出です。

2025年はどんな年になるでしょうか。健康と平和、それに少しの冒険を味わえる平凡な年であることを願います。

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Memories of Mongolia, translation with help of ChatGTP

It was the last day of summer vacation when I visited Mongolia. A local boy, about elementary school age, was helping his father, who balanced livestock farming with hosting tourists. With a freshly shaved head, he seemed ready to return to school the next day. It was my first time riding a horse, and he held the reins, walking alongside me. Perhaps the task felt monotonous, as he eventually started rocking his body back and forth. When I glanced at his face, I realized he was dozing off. His innocence made me smile. On the way back, having grown accustomed to the ride, I began to feel drowsy myself. I closed my eyes briefly, only to be startled by the boy shouting something loudly at me. Though I couldn’t understand his words, his urgency conveyed his message clearly—he must have been faithfully following his father's instructions to keep an eye on the guests. The sturdy, hospitable master of the house, the wife who prepared hoshor (a homemade dish of minced lamb wrapped in dough and fried), and the dog who paid no attention to me—each detail lingers in my heart as a cherished memory.

As 2025 unfolds, I hope it will be a year filled with health, peace, and just enough adventure to keep things interesting.