Never was I interested in webcams until the earthquake and tsunami hit Japan in March 2011. At that time I downloaded a live view of the nuclear power plant at Fukushima for my iPad.
I checked it every day and felt a deep fear for Japan and even for the United States: if it can happen in Japan, it can happen here. I thought, this is what it would be like if we had a nuclear meltdown. I live 24 miles away from the nuclear facility at San Onofre, California.
As the situation in Japan slowly improved, I still checked the webcam and installed the updates. I began to consider that I was getting to see Japan while I wasn't there, and maybe there were other webcams available with scenes of interest. The first one I discovered was a bridge and rushing river in Nikko. I was pretty happy with that because I had visited Nikko and it brought to mind the experience.
Next, I found a place on Shikoku called Bentenyama. I like this webcam too because often people are in evidence. Sometimes visitors walk up the steps leading to the shrine, pull up in a car, or ride past on a bicycle. The sun shines, the wind blows, and the sidewalk can be wet. I feel as if I'm witnessing the passing of seasons.
Over the months I have searched for different webcams of Japan, and once in a while I discover one that makes me scratch my head; nevertheless, I keep looking to see what that cockatiel is up to each morning.
These webcams have a mysterious allure for me, especially the one from Fukushima. One of the camera views is from TBS/JNN, and I was very surprised to realize there is sound with the live feed. Somehow, the singing birds cause me to feel such hope.
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