in the predawn twilight

in the predawn twilight

girdled in pilgrim white 

fujisan's bare crown 

emerges blue on pale blue

awaiting the waking sun

Waking at 4, I open the shoji for my first view of the day. In the pale blue crepuscular light before the sun peaks over the mountains at my back, Fujisan seems to be sleeping under a white cotton sheet, bare crown emerging above a bank of clouds girdling her base. Midsummer, only a couple of white smears of snow, like a streak of white hair, lie in a crevice along one slope. The white-garbed pilgrims, climbing through the night to reach the peak by dawn, stand breathless, awaiting the first brilliant burst of sunlight.

wads of wool roving

wads of wool roving

undulate across the sky

in voluptuous waves

Late March, for a breathtaking half hour the entire dome of the sky is covered with billowing blue-gray clouds rising and falling in waves. Altostratus undulatus form when the air above and below the cloud layer is moving at different speeds and directions, pulling, twisting and shearing the clouds into intricate, fast-changing patterns. Sometimes it looks as if the waves crest over the tops of trees, but this ocean of clouds is too high to be affected by mere landlubbers.