Sitting in a Japanese tearoom in Gion, the old area of Kyoto, I look out the window and see two young geishas wrapped in layered, flower-printed kimonos walking gracefully down the narrow street like two butterflies in the sky. A bird is singing in the figue tree, and in the garden pond, few carps are shining like gold. I smell the strong smell of a lily and a bunch of chrysanthemums beside my table. I also remember the deers in Nara. It was last fall in Japan, such tender memories.