A hat slowly sinks beneath the choppy surface of a Shinagawa canal. Not just any hat; my hat, the wool flat cap that lived half-folded in a jacket pocket and kept my head warm and dry through many a cold wind, drenching rain, or driving snow. It was doing so one blustery morning as well…. until a gust of wind hit just as I was halfway over the canal bridge. One moment it was firmly on my head, the next instant it was gone, and when I turned it was sailing out over the water.
It landed with a splash too far away for any hope of rescue. A few seconds later it was gone, pausing just long enough for a farewell photo.