Photography

A quick glance to see if commuters are clutching umbrellas or not is almost always a good indicator of the day’s weather. And the more people in possession of one, means a higher percentage of rain. A technique that, without a doubt, is far more accurate than any forecast.

But even when there’s apparently no chance of precipitation, and absolutely nobody appears to have a brolly, the moment there’s a quick downpour, almost everyone suddenly does. A sort of mass magic trick, when umbrellas, and not just folding ones, appear to be pulled out of thin air.

However, for those not in the know, or whose conjuring tricks are on the wane, the consternation of being caught out is often all too clear.

Lost, discarded, or often stolen and discarded bicycles are a common sight in Tokyo. Some are left alone, whereas others are used as conveniently placed bins, resulting in their baskets gradually filling with garbage. But none of them, not by any means, come anywhere close to being as beautiful as this one.

An old to begin with machine that is perfectly preserved (and yet at the same time not preserved), in a manner that, for me at least, is pretty much perfect.

Tokyo’s parks offer a myriad of sights and sounds, many of them happy ones, but the man below — who I think used to own this dog, which unfortunately must have died — is instead a decidedly sad one.

A scene that always used to upset me, and yet at the same time it was one that for reasons unknown I would always seek out. One that for an awfully long time I made a point of not photographing too. Until a while ago that is. Although why it’s hard to say. But whatever the motive, I’m now glad I did, as despite countless visits, he hasn’t been there since. And as sad as he always looked, the park is somehow a lot sadder without him.