Why would a man born in Neath, South Wales, and raised in Britain, spend so much money and thirty years to bring a neglected woodland back to beauty and a rich biodiversity in Japan of all places?
The motives that drive us to do (or not to do) things in our life are almost as important as the actions, so I’m taking this chance to try to lay them out.
I came to Japan (to learn martial arts) for the first time in 1962, and in those early years I was hugely impressed by the fact that such a densely populated modern island nation could have about 67% of its area covered in trees, and that in these woods two species of wild bears could survive. (The small black ‘moon’ bear in Shikoku and Honshu and the bigger brown bear in Hokkaido). In those early years I spent all the time I could getting out of the city to hike or snowshoe the mountains and to visit small islands. I have never been much interested in cities or buildings. If I am dragged along to see a local shrine or temple I’ll probably spend more time looking at the huge old trees than at the building itself.
Japan has a greater diversity of native trees than the whole of Europe put together. It goes without saying that this diversity is also reflected in the native fauna and flora.
After many visits to study and to write in Japan I finally settled here in Kurohime, northern Nagano, in 1980. Eventually, being determined to make Japan my home, I decided that just studying, writing and complaining was not enough. Thus it was that I decided to buy up neglected woodland and to bring it back to life. I wanted to give back to Japan, to leave something beautiful as a gesture of gratitude for all the years of wonderful life I have had in this country. I’ve kicked enough political and governmental shins to make me very unpopular in some circle, but Japan has always protected me and my family. There are many countries where I could never get away with such criticism.
The Japanese are generally a very polite and respectful people. They will listen to a foreigner like me. However, the only real way to move the Japanese is to do something and to be able to show what you have done.
“Don’t tell me, show me,” is a very strong tenet here. With heaven’s grace, and the favour of all the gods of mountain, stream and forest, that is what I shall go on trying to achieve for the rest of my life.
This is that story.
The motives that drive us to do (or not to do) things in our life are almost as important as the actions, so I’m taking this chance to try to lay them out.
I came to Japan (to learn martial arts) for the first time in 1962, and in those early years I was hugely impressed by the fact that such a densely populated modern island nation could have about 67% of its area covered in trees, and that in these woods two species of wild bears could survive. (The small black ‘moon’ bear in Shikoku and Honshu and the bigger brown bear in Hokkaido). In those early years I spent all the time I could getting out of the city to hike or snowshoe the mountains and to visit small islands. I have never been much interested in cities or buildings. If I am dragged along to see a local shrine or temple I’ll probably spend more time looking at the huge old trees than at the building itself.
Japan has a greater diversity of native trees than the whole of Europe put together. It goes without saying that this diversity is also reflected in the native fauna and flora.
After many visits to study and to write in Japan I finally settled here in Kurohime, northern Nagano, in 1980. Eventually, being determined to make Japan my home, I decided that just studying, writing and complaining was not enough. Thus it was that I decided to buy up neglected woodland and to bring it back to life. I wanted to give back to Japan, to leave something beautiful as a gesture of gratitude for all the years of wonderful life I have had in this country. I’ve kicked enough political and governmental shins to make me very unpopular in some circle, but Japan has always protected me and my family. There are many countries where I could never get away with such criticism.
The Japanese are generally a very polite and respectful people. They will listen to a foreigner like me. However, the only real way to move the Japanese is to do something and to be able to show what you have done.
“Don’t tell me, show me,” is a very strong tenet here. With heaven’s grace, and the favour of all the gods of mountain, stream and forest, that is what I shall go on trying to achieve for the rest of my life.
This is that story.
