A week went by without sunshine, and the temperature stayed at a constant 15 degrees Celsius, day and night. “The weather is very strange these days,” the farmer across the mountain pass said. We lived in limbo, in a world without night or day, hot or cold, and our skin grew pale in the fog. “You walked across the forest of bears?” he asked. We rested in a shed by his cows, eating the last of our chocolate. The air smelled of wet straw and ammonia. “You’re very strange people,” he said. I felt peaceful, weightless, drained, and I thought of red-crowned cranes dancing in the snow.
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These Walking Dreams is a visual field diary of a 4,300-kilometer walk from one end of Japan to the other, in the spring and summer of 2017.