Russell Jenkins Stoop Files

I took last Wednesday off and decided to take a train ride of about 50kms to Murakami. I went there in the spring of last year and found a large parklands alongside river winding through tree covered mountains. I wanted to go back in autumn sometime, and I did.

It is a nice train ride and I enjoyed listening to an audiobook and looking out the windows of the train. When I got there, I bought a chocolate sandwich and an ice coffee which I carried to a small city park on the edge of the larger parkland area. It was dull and cool and very quiet. I don’t remember going anywhere in Japan with such an absence of humans. I enjoyed just taking photographs of the scenery and I could see how summer had disappeared and autumn was opening its doors.

At the small park, I sat down, ate my sandwich and slurped my drink. It was terribly quiet though, with only the sound of a very loud crow in the tree above me. I still casually browsed the park and watched some beautiful carp that seemed excited to see me as they swam slowly around the shallow canals of the park.

Having been refreshed from the food, and rest at the park, I decided to was time to hike down to the parklands and search for birds among the trees and along the river.

It still seemed awfully quiet. Kind of eerie even. I remember last year, there were joggers and golfers and walkers. I only saw one farm truck and and a woman who drove up and suddenly stopped and placed flowers at a shrine at the small park behind me.

Once I got down to the bridge, I discovered I couldn’t enter the parkland area. At first it seemed the bridge must have been damaged, but then I looked closer at the kanji on the white poster. To confirm my understanding, I used Google Translate. I watched my phone as it translated it to, “Kuma Appearance”. I stepped back a little, and felt the hair on the back of my neck respond. I admit it was fear. There’s no way that bit of yellow tape looked like it was gonna keep a bear from getting through. I left, and headed back to the station.

Once home, I learned a man had been seriously attacked by a bear there just a few days before. I did further searches to discover 3 more people had been attacked at the town of Shibata a few train stops before Murakami. Then I discovered more such incidents around Niigata, and that the Niigata Prefectural Government had issued a warning of a “Bear Infestation” around the prefecture. Because of the strange weather, the beech trees failed to produce fruit that the bears need to fatten up on. The poor things are coming to the towns. At least 7 people have been attacked in recent weeks.

Anyhow, it was dramatic adventure even with the absence of life. The fish and the crow, and the woman who visited the shrine, were the only living things I found once I got away from the city. At least I have learned I should keep an interest in the local news.