Chapter 22 - Autumn Farewell

          The enigma of the forest drew her on, promising all could be lost in its endless maze. No path showed, nor did she remember ever being here, yet she picked out the way easy enough. It leads away from the world. Yes, the past could be left behind, along with everything happening whence she came. Chaos and loss. It had commenced anew, she sensed. In a mountainous wilderness north, the sprawling madness; a tiger growling and a dragon’s roar; two titans with claws and fangs locked in death combat, the trees crashing beneath the weight of their struggle.

            Isae’s strides hastened with the need to get as far away as possible. Pressing into the loneliness of the woods, she perceived she could leave her identity behind too, her very name and memories. Such a relief to set it aside. By and by she lost track of hour and distance, yet as she journeyed further so did her appreciation for the surroundings grow. It must have rained a few days gone. A freshness and faint dampness still permeated the woodlands, rousing the aromatic scent of earth and foliage. The heavens stretched clear and clean, the afternoon sun reached through the canopies, burnishing large swathes of foliage that autumn had already transformed into hues gold and crimson.

            Roaming into this domain she felt lighter, her worries being cast in her wake, among the leaves. Why so quiet? Scarcely a breeze stirred, and no birdsong. Just her footsteps in doeskin boots, crimpling gently through the layers of bronze leaves, trespassed the quiet. Peace accompanied and the elation of freedom buoyed her. Howbeit, now and then, even after putting much distance between herself and the world, a wisp of unknown sadness shaded her, an inexplicable loss.  

             Whatever it was, it is better to not remember ...

            On and on Isae drifted across the rolling slopes, gradually ascending. Here the air was crisp and pure, with the keen edge the late season brought. She breathed at ease and remained snug in what she vaguely recalled was a kimono she used to love. At altitude the colors intensified. She must have journeyed scores of kilometers, days perhaps, yet she never tired. The afternoon progressed imperceptibly but for the gold-amber beams slanting lower. The autumn sun always shined with a more impassioned spirit than that of spring or summer, a light both cold and warm, both a comfort and a sorrow. No matter how afar Isae ventured, a caress of the unknown sadness remained. Ahead, the bough-dappled beams held secrets of remembrance …

            The maples, birches, and aspen, rippled with (swishing) breeze. Just beyond he was standing, welcoming her with a smile. He had been waiting.

            “Shinyasu.” She halted, struck by the unbelievable, blessed moment.

            “I knew you would find me.”

            “I am so glad to see you,” she stammered amid the overflowing joy and relief.

            “Whenever we find each other, it brings me bliss,” said Shinyasu.

            Isae was full of light, like a jewel radiating in the sun. Why did she feel such relief? Whatever it was, it had happened past the frontier of this realm, where memory did not reach. It mattered not. Isae resolved to stay fully in this present moment. The other life was a dream. This was truth. Nothing else need be.

                “Come, my dove,” he offered, “I wish to show you a special place.”

            They walked, Shinyasu leading the way. In the indigo kimono he cut a strikingly handsome figure. His presence, aura, emanated more real than in waking life. Across the forested highlands the two roved westward. Isae appreciated every step beside him. Such vivifying air. The leaves crinkled under their passage. It all seemed so true …

            Of course, it is. Nothing can assail this. We are safe here.

            Isae held his hand to affirm the reality.

            “Just a little father,” Shinyasu indicated.

            Leisurely, they threaded toward the top of the ascent. At steeper stretches, he pointed out the best spots to step, and helped her up. Upon cresting the ridge, Isae squinted into the effulgence of the western sun. On the summit of what proved to be a small mountain, they entered a meadow. This overlooked a yawning valley. Isae and Shinyasu stood near the rim. West a colossal mountain range lifted, the highest peaks already anointed by the first dusting of autumn snow. The sun neared those monolithic heights, setting the clouds afire, and casting giant purple shadows over the valley. The forested escarpments shimmered crimson and amber.

            Isae sensed this a hidden place where no one had ever been. An ancient spirit dwelled in that valley and beyond. Overwhelmed, she (spoke), “It is wonderful here.”

            Among a crop of large boulders they sat together and contemplated the sunset. In this lofty reach it was cold, but next to Shinyasu it did not trouble her. The horizon soared in yearning light. Like a dream ... It could be the most beautiful sight Isae had beheld. It harked back the notion of Yugen; the awareness no words could express, reflecting the emotional power evoked by the mystery of the universe. It harked back to her the concept of Yugen; the awareness no words could express, emotions evoked by the mystery of the universe. Such a magnificent vista struck her both familiar yet unknowable, and somehow heartbreaking.

            Perhaps I am not supposed to see it, … not yet …

            Being with Shinyasu she did not dwell overmuch on such enigmas, instead appreciating each second gifted to them. This deep bond, she prayed never to lose again. Isae rested her head on his shoulder, Shinyasu put an arm over her, their vision set adrift in departing day. Thereon the flood of the sinking sun rayed over the mountaintops.

            “Where will it go?” Isae asked, spellbound.

            “Beyond,” Shinyasu signaled west, “there is a realm where the gods dwell.”

            To the Western Paradise …

            Isae saw what she already knew but had been unwilling to accept. Here their paths must diverge, and she could not follow. Isae tried to forget karma had pulled them in different directions. The autumn leaves (rustled, shone) with such splendor, yet suddenly she yearned for an unattainable spring.

            She implored, as if asking a small favor, with pain, “Don’t go.”

            He caressed the side of her head. “I would stay forever.”

            It made sense he must continue west. Isae struggled to accept such transience. The closeness of the moment slipped away, she sensed, like dust between her fingers. She held on nonetheless. The leaves had waited, to bestow them this last glory, … before they departing forever …

            “Please don’t leave me here.” Isae hugged closer, seeking refuge. He held her dear. “Not yet.”

            “I wish. But the spirits beckon. My path leads to the other side of the mountains.”

            A sad sheen reflected in his eyes; regret for what had happened, for everything he had lost seemingly before its time. Then, with careful affection he draped a deep purple haori coat over her shoulders.

            “But you must not remain here either,” he said, holding her hands. “Soon winter will come, and no one can survive in such a place.”

            A current sighed afar, quickening. Isae looked towards the mountains. The wind grew stronger, rushing through the trees. All that remained of the sun was its impassioned halo illuming the disconsolate skies purple and pink.

            When she turned back Shinyasu was gone. She called out his name but no answer came. The forlorn wind pressed its dirge through the forests, loosening myriad of leaves in swirling falling. Isae looked around. She was alone. Amidst the gathering cold she hugged her arms to herself. Still, she could not give up.

            “Shinyasu!” She searched the beautiful desolation.

            The leaves fell like embers, taken away along with all the failed wishes, as she cried out his name, louder, again and again, until her voice and her will too, became part of the wind …