By now, you may have heard of the big earthquake that hit northern Japan yesterday morning. At 7.2 on the Richter scale, it ranks as a "major" earthquake. In our part of Kitakami, it reached 5-upper on the shindo scale, intense enough to cause cracks in the walls of earthquake-resistant structures. But at our house, it just spilled some coffee, knocked a few books off shelves, and caused the automatic safety device to cut off our gas.

Of course, it was big enough to cause us worry. Perhaps the strangest thing about it was how it went on, and on, and on. I guess every big earthquake feels like it goes on forever to the people experiencing it, but this one really did go on for almost 20 minutes. Well, the intense shaking did, anyway; I guess it was probably actually several earthquakes in quick succession, but the vibrations from each were still going when the next arrived. Here are the earthquake maps from the Japan Meteorological Agency showing the earthquake at 8:47, and still going strong at 9:01.




Just how close was this to us? Here's a zoomed view.



And just how (not) bad was it for us? Well, here's the shelf that moved. Some games almost fell, and a few books did fall.



Shortly after 9, the intensity fell off. But — and this was a very strange sensation — the ground continued to gently roll and pitch for about another hour. As it continued, we picked ourselves up, checked for damage, reset the gas supply, and started to go back about our business. By the time it stopped, we were so used to it that we were still unsteady on our feet, like when you step on dry land after spending some time in a small boat.

The rest of the day and night were a continuous series of aftershocks, sometimes just minutes apart. By 10pm, just 13 hours after the earthquake, there had been nearly 200 aftershocks. Many more came throughout the night, and they have been continuing today with less frequency.

Traffic safety is very important in Japan, for bicyclists as well as drivers. All cyclists are required to have headlights on their bikes. It's also illegal for people to carry umbrellas or talk on cell phones while riding a bicycle — ordering a pizza while riding your bike down a crowded sidewalk isn't likely to end well. So we were pretty amused by the guy we saw riding his bike a few nights ago. His bike had no light, save for the penlight in his hand, which he bobbed side to side as he rode. Not a legal solution, but one that got the job done — we could all see him coming.

On my way back to the office last week, I had an unusual cabbie. For one thing, he was chatty, unlike the other Japanese cabbies I've encountered. For another, he looked very much like one of my bosses back in Washington, if my boss had been Japanese rather than of Mediterranean descent. It was the second time he'd been my driver, and both times I noticed the resemblance immediately.

Occasionally, we come across Japanese versions of familiar faces from back home. What's interesting about these occurrences is that they cover a wide variety of Western features. My boss looks nothing like an old client, American Idol-era Clay Aiken, or Steven Spielberg, yet we've seen Japanese versions of each of them. And, as a general rule, Japanese features are pretty homogeneous, so it's not like we're keying off of similarities in hair or eye color. It would be easy to say it's a trick of the mind, that it comes from needing some connection to home, but the first J-Clay sighting occurred while we still lived in America. The likenesses must come from somewhere more fundamental than that.

Anthropologists and ethnologists probably have researched this phenomenon and come to some conclusions about why we see the familiar in the apparently unrelated. For us, the non-scientists, it's just a part of the ongoing adventure — who are we going to see next?

In Japan, the sakura are not just spectacular to look at — they also herald the coming spring. While the cherry blossoms distract everyone, the rest of the plant kingdom quietly push out their buds and flowers.

These photos are from the end of April.

The sun setting over the Sea of Japan, as seen from Tsubakiyama, Aomori.

A kame no ki (turtle tree) flowering in early May.

I remember crepuscular rays — light and dark bands radiating from the sun — as a common feature of sunsets in my childhood. Here, they can be seen very frequently, at any time of day.

This photo was taken in Tono, in mid-afternoon.

At a famous senbei (cracker/cookie) shop in Esashi, crackers are made by hand — one at a time. You need a reservation a week in advance to buy the popular varieties from this shop.

A poet grinds ink in preparation for writing his verse at Gokusui no En.

Last weekend, we attended Gokusui no En at Motsuji, a temple in Hiraizumi. Gokusui no En is a festival reenacting a popular entertainment among nobles during the Heian Period. To begin the event, a Buddhist priest places a theme on a small raft that then floats down a stream, followed by cups of sake.



Each member of a group of poets seated along the stream composes a short poem about the prescribed theme.



We've read that the poets who fail to complete their verses before the sake cup reaches them must drink, but it seemed like all of them ended up drinking sake at some point.