I want to befriend imperceptibility and begin my slow transformation over the years into an expert Japanese Sunday photographer with a long telephoto lens, bulging multi-pocketed technical vest, and familial support team standing at the ready nearby. Deep commitment to a hobby along a river seems healthy and right. But the expert photographers are now quite scarce along the north side of the Shakujii gawa. There is no more photographing of lazy cats absorbing heat, as they have retreated from the cold into the warmth of their mysterious cat communities in underground pyramids somewhere. Besides, the light is completely wrong now for photographing cats at 17:00 JST with any kind of lens. Although the photographers have departed, the colder weather has brought out the migratory expert fishermen to the south side. I used to see them further west upriver, vests also bulging with gear of a different sort, but now they sit on miniature folding chairs close to where I start my run. Fishing rods have been placed in shining holders pushed into the ground and lines have been stretched a short distance into a small pond on the river floodplain. I can't see any activity in the water and there doesn't seem to be anything living in the pond’s undersea world, but the slow movements of the fishermen indicate that they are doing something when they gently tug at invisible filaments. I never thought about it, but the expert fishermen might potentially be the expert photographers in disguise.