Fresh sakaki on the fifteenth

The 1st and 15th are when I change the sakaki on my kamidana. In Nagano my grandmother cut it from the bush behind the house. In Seattle I drive to a grocery in the International District that gets it maybe half the time, and the rest of the time I ask the neighbour's camellia hedge to stand in, very politely.

This morning: rice, salt, water and a little sake in their white dishes. Two bows, two claps, one bow. Rain loud on the skylight, the cat sitting under the shelf like a small guardian.

It isn't a big ceremony. It's more like opening the window in a room you love.