The Japanese seem pretty oblivious to their rainy season. Unlike Californians, who expect the sky to fall down and get very excited at any prediction of rain, the Japanese simply open their colorful umbrellas, and go on about their business. Raincoats are rarely used. I daily admire the expertise of Kyoto bicyclists as they ride their bikes while holding an umbrella directly overhead that somehow manages to keep them perfectly dry. Even my husband, who always declines to use an umbrella in the USA, has taken to carrying one here too, as long as it’s blue! There are some distinct pleasures to this time of the year. The Heian Shrine in Kyoto is my husband’s favorite. These special places deserve repeated visits, because each visit is different depending on the light, the season or the time of day. So, even though it was raining lightly yesterday afternoon, I easily agreed to visit. Walking alone through the expansive shrine gardens was an experience in entering a gentle, glistening and peaceful emerald-green world of watery abundance.. The famous iris and delicate cherry blossoms of spring have passed on. The summer’s waterlily blooms were few and far between, but just that small touch of color they provided, from the few flowers that were open, was perfectly satisfying. Less is more, as they say! The landscape in the garden is large and grand, so it seemed only right to try for some panorama pics to attempt to capture the lush scene that spread before us. The wonder of a Japanese garden is that it’s a deliberately devious design. Most paths curve, so that with each step, a new view unfolds or reveals itself. At the Heian, many paths lead directly over the water, either with walkways or stone steps, which provides just the right touch of excitement. Note blue umbrella. In many ways, this rainy day provided a more memorable experience than a full on sunshiney, blue sky day. So, I say, let it rain.