In all the years I lived in America, I can honestly say I never had what happened to me this morning ever occur even once. Not in Michigan, Florida, Oregon. Not even in California, where there are no limits on the craziness.
My wife and I were finishing breakfast this morning and when we looked out the back window on the forest that is adjacent to our property, there was a MONKEY!
I know the photo makes it look like it’s watching TikTok on an iPhone, but he was actually munching on a potato he got from someone. Maybe us?
While usually such sightings are quite rare, monkeys are very much a part of the “fabric of like” here. Let me elaborate.
Understand that they can be very troublesome. Several monkeys can wipe out an entire garden in one raid, the veggies it took two or three months to grow. At the same time, our city officials don’t want to mercilessly eliminate them. After all, before we humans came along, this was their land. They are part of the eco-system here that has thrived for millennia.
We have five groups of monkeys — groups are extended families or communities — A through E. Group D is the most aggressive, or as we humans might say, the one that shows the most initiative. The groups are dispersed throughout the area, but it’s Group D that makes its presence felt around our house. Lucky us!
The monkey groups are tracked by the city government. There are chips inserted in members of each group. When possible, the city lets us know when a raiding party is moving in on a particular location.
Citizens report sightings as well. Right after we saw the monkey this morning, I alerted a neighbor, a gentleman who serves as the unofficial monkey policeman. Immediately, another neighbor phoned a report into City Hall. Our own monkey sheriff grabbed some fireworks launchers — these are hand-held tubes that fire a round of three explosive charges high into the air — and he set them off. The explosions are very loud, but I have a suspicion the monkeys are used to them and just ignore them.
It was community work day, so I left to work. While I was cutting weeds around our village shrine . . .
. . . my wife Masumi had two more visits by our encroacher.
I can’t blame the monkey. It’s spring and there is an inviting assortment of vegetables growing all around to select from. Time to catch up on eating after the sparse winter months.
As I’ve often said, the excitement never lets up here!
Life In Japan: Monkey Attack!
In all the years I lived in America, I can honestly say I never had what happened to me this morning ever occur even once. Not in Michigan, Florida, Oregon. Not even in California, where there are no limits on the craziness.
My wife and I were finishing breakfast this morning and when we looked out the back window on the forest that is adjacent to our property, there was a MONKEY!
I know the photo makes it look like it’s watching TikTok on an iPhone, but he was actually munching on a potato he got from someone. Maybe us?
While usually such sightings are quite rare, monkeys are very much a part of the “fabric of like” here. Let me elaborate.
Understand that they can be very troublesome. Several monkeys can wipe out an entire garden in one raid, the veggies it took two or three months to grow. At the same time, our city officials don’t want to mercilessly eliminate them. After all, before we humans came along, this was their land. They are part of the eco-system here that has thrived for millennia.
We have five groups of monkeys — groups are extended families or communities — A through E. Group D is the most aggressive, or as we humans might say, the one that shows the most initiative. The groups are dispersed throughout the area, but it’s Group D that makes its presence felt around our house. Lucky us!
The monkey groups are tracked by the city government. There are chips inserted in members of each group. When possible, the city lets us know when a raiding party is moving in on a particular location.
Citizens report sightings as well. Right after we saw the monkey this morning, I alerted a neighbor, a gentleman who serves as the unofficial monkey policeman. Immediately, another neighbor phoned a report into City Hall. Our own monkey sheriff grabbed some fireworks launchers — these are hand-held tubes that fire a round of three explosive charges high into the air — and he set them off. The explosions are very loud, but I have a suspicion the monkeys are used to them and just ignore them.
It was community work day, so I left to work. While I was cutting weeds around our village shrine . . .
. . . my wife Masumi had two more visits by our encroacher.
I can’t blame the monkey. It’s spring and there is an inviting assortment of vegetables growing all around to select from. Time to catch up on eating after the sparse winter months.
As I’ve often said, the excitement never lets up here!
Do you doubt it?