Mount Fuji is in the province of Suruga. In Kazusa, where I grew up, it was a mountain seen to the west. Its form is truly rare in the world. Unlike other mountains, it looks painted with deep blue, and snow lies on it without ever melting, so that it seems to wear a white undergown over a deep purple robe; and from the slightly flat place at the summit, smoke rises. At dusk you can even see flames rising.
At the Kiyomi Barrier, on one side is the sea; there are many barrier buildings, and a fence is built right out into the sea. Perhaps the smoke meets and mingles with the sea spray, and the waves at Kiyomi must rise high too. It is delightful beyond measure.
The river called the Fuji River is water that flows down from Mount Fuji. A man of that province came out and told us: "One year, when I had gone somewhere, it was hot, so I rested by this river, and as I watched, something yellow came floating down from upstream and caught on something and stopped. It was a piece of waste paper. When I picked it up, on yellow paper, characters were written neatly in deep vermilion.
"I thought it strange and looked: the provinces whose governors were to be appointed next year were all written down, just like a list of appointments, and since this province too would change governors next year, a governor was written, and another person's name was added beside it: two people.
"Thinking it a wonder, I picked it up, dried it and put it away, and at the appointments next year, exactly as this paper said, without the least difference, the man written first became governor of this province, but died within three months, and the man added beside him took his place. That is what happened. So I understood that next year's governors are decided this year by the many gods who gather on this mountain. A rare thing, isn't it?"