boatloads of pilgrims

My grandmother used to be a watercolor painter. Her specialty was painting flowers. Her paintings were hung throughout my grandparents' house, and I'd see them whenever I went to visit. She'd entertain my brother and I by telling stories and drawing them as she went along, illustrating the horse, the flower, the boy, and the laughing moon.

I can't say that I am particularly artistic, but sometimes artsy things I do turn out well, particularly photos. I say that I got that sense from her. Predominately, I like taking pictures of two things: flowers and the sky. At least one of those came from her as well.

The above picture is the stormy sky over the torii gate at Miyajima, an island off the coast of Hiroshima. In 2003, my study abroad program took the entire school here for a Cultural Experience. Historically, the island of Miyajima was considered sacred and no one but the priests could step foot on it. Because of this, the shrine was built "floating" just offshore and the torii was positioned at the front of the bay to welcome boatloads of pilgrims. In reality, when the tide is out, the bay empties and the stilts holding up the shrine are revealed, as is dry land on which anyone can walk out stand next to the torii.

By the time I went to visit, Miyajima had become a tourist spot, chock full of hotels, spas, souvenir shops, and a beach. Protected deer and tourists wandered the small, winding mountain roads together. I had wanted to join them on a hike to the top of the central mountain, but the day after we arrived, the fringes of a typhoon hit the island bringing with it pouring rain. All I could do was snap this photo between downpours. I quite like it.