I had been following the mountain path for about an hour or so through the countryside of Kyoto, Japan.  I had already spent much of the day contentedly wandering around ancient temples turned pink with thousands of cherry blossoms and through soaring forests of bright green, swaying bamboo plants.  In my opinion the day was already a success.

Cherry Blossoms blanket the Kyoto landscape

Dwarfed by the bamboo

After passing through the bamboo forests there were a number of sign posts leading to other parts of the surrounding area, but none led to places I particularly wanted to see. But since I was already out and about I decided to follow the signs until I ended up high on a hill overlooking a river valley.

The walk up to the hilltop was not strenuous, but still I decided to take a break once I got there just to enjoy the peace and quiet and beautiful scenery of the valley below me.  And that’s when I first heard it. A faint, high pitched, musical note.  I listened harder to figure out where it was coming from but the sound was intermittent and trailed off after a few notes.

After about 10 minutes of taking in the view, I decided to continue along the path. And that’s when I heard the music again, this time a little more clearly.  It was coming from some sort of pipe or flute – the kind of melody you’d hear in a traditional Asian movie as the camera sweeps across the open countryside. Normally, I’d be on a schedule and wouldn’t be able to investigate the source of the music. But I was on my own, with no particular agenda and no one to consult. I decided to go on a little adventure to follow the music.

View into the valley below

I had no idea who or what would be the source of the music or where I would find it. It could have been pre-recorded music coming from a gift shop or it could have been played by an 80 year old Buddhist monk dressed in robes.  That didn’t matter so much – it was more the fun of the search.  I ended up winding my way down through the valley I was looking over when I first heard the notes. Past large old trees, small streams and foot paths that lead down to the river.

My little adventure takes me closer to the riverbed.

As I went along, the music kept getting louder and clearer so I knew I was on the right path. Eventually I came around a corner and sitting along a rocky cliff wall I found the source.

Not a giftshop, not a Buddhist monk, just a young woman who was practicing her flute in a peaceful location.  Was I disappointed? Not at all.  That’s because I made it about the journey and having a little adventure. The outcome wasn’t so important.  I was just happy to have the time and ability to follow the music. And my rewards for doing so? Answering a question (where is the music coming from?) and seeing a bit of Kyoto that I would not have seen had I not gone on this little jaunt.  It was well worth the trip.