Not in the Park

Back in the hut, the employees were cleaning up and getting ready to go home. I saw their toilet and said things under my breath and used it. The seat was heated, I remember, and the facility, Japanese-spotless. I was bummed. I then walked out the exit, and the older guy, in charge of the place, came after me with my wool watch-cap. So, very dejectedly, very angry and disappointed, I stood below the steps of the building and cleaned my gear and tried to get a grip on my emotions. There was a rail to keep you from falling off the mountainside, and then I realized that the monkeys are free to roam the hills. They are not confined, the visitors are. Meanwhile, the employees were coming out of the building, all five of them, and walking, laughing and chatting, down the hill to their mopeds and left. I stood, attached the telephoto lens, and hoped that I would be able to see some of the monkeys on the far side of the creek. I actually did, but they were really far away. It got really quiet. No more people at all, just me in the fading light outside of the hut. And suddenly, there was the sound of little feet. First one, then another, and then more monkeys were walking right by me and heading down the path. My heart skipped a beat, are you kidding me? I got the mountain, and no oither humans around, just me and my monkeys (wasn't there a Beatle song?). I stood absolutely still. The monkeys could not have cared less and just started to look for bark to chew off twigs. I hoped that I would not spook them and very slowly followed them downhill.