The old itinerant monk in "Oi," the 1830s woodblock print by Hasegawa Settan shown here, is admiring a gushing spring on a forested hillside. Apparently impressed by the joyous flow of water, he is speaking to a local temple apprentice who is pointing away to the right, possibly to another spring nearby.

The village of Oi has been known since time immemorial for its abundance of water sources, just as Togoshi (featured in this column last month) was known for its aridity. However Togoshi lies inland on the Meguro Upland, whereas nearby Oi is on the upland's eastern edge, where many springs well up through the terraced ground. Also close to the sea, Oi was long a good place from which to gather shellfish, and it has supported human habitation since the late Jomon Period (5th-4th c. B.C.).

The first mention of Oi appears in a section of the Taiho Code of 701, where it is described as a post station in the province of Musashi (present-day Tokyo and Saitama Prefecture, and part of Kanagawa Prefecture). This is sure evidence that even by then, Oi had grown large enough to supply horses, provisions and other needs for official travelers. The highway they took, connecting the old capitals of Nara and Kyoto to northern Japan, is the ancient Tokaido.

After Kamakura became the political center of Japan in 1192, when Minamoto Yoritomo established his shogunate there, this road became one of the three Kamakura highways, heavily used by mounted warriors. Later, travelers continued to frequent the village of Oi and its environs in the Edo Period (1603-1867), avoiding the hustle and bustle of the "new" Tokaido, opened in 1601.

Today, of course, Oi is a densely populated commercial and residential district, with no trace of rural life and only the slopes and a stretch of the ancient Tokaido to recall its venerable past.

To explore these vestiges on foot -- and encounter several interesting surprises on the way -- take the Central West Exit from Oimachi Station on the JR Keihin Tohoku Line. After turning left at the bottom of the steps, bear right just before a parking sign and walk along to a roadside shrine dedicated to a jizo statue blackened with smoke from generations of incense offerings.

From there, after crossing Ikegami-dori on a pedestrian bridge, turn left, then right, to follow a narrow road with a modest shrine and a hospital on the left. Soon, after turning right at a T-junction, you will be walking along the ancient Tokaido, on a stretch that amazingly survives amid modern housing.

Just there, too, a trace of the former, sea-facing bluff remains in a grove of large tabu-no-ki (Machilus thumbergii) at Saiko-ji Temple. These broad-leaved evergreens with an affinity for the microclimate of a temperate seacoast flourish in the far corner of the cemetery. Now too far from the coast (thanks to the reclamation of land in Tokyo Bay) to sough in a sea breeze, they are nonetheless still vigorous, casting deep shadows beneath their gnarled boughs.

Leaving the temple, go right to Kofuku-ji Temple, which is famous for an enormous ginkgo tree, supposedly 800 years old. The 40-meter giant reveals part of its crown above crowded rooftops, most conspicuously in early winter when the leaves turn golden. Although this giant's exuberant foliage is visible from the modest front gate, it is only from the gently elevated, open graveyard behind the temple that this amazing tree can really be seen -- standing so tall that, as local old-timers fondly recall, it used to be visible from Tokyo Bay, when it served as a landmark for fishermen.

Spring of saintly legend

Kofuku-ji has another natural monument -- a spring beside a tabu-no-ki at the back of the cemetery. Though now much reduced and buttressed by stones, this source, called "The Spring of St. Ryokai's First Bath," is still fed naturally by groundwater seepage. In a legend told at this temple, water spouted up from the temple garden just as a baby was born nearby on June 15, 1213. The newborn, who was first washed in the spring's water, was later ordained as the priest of Kofuku-ji, and enhanced the temple's fame throughout the province of Musashi. Perhaps the boy in Settan's woodblock is telling this story to the traveling monk.

As the ancient Tokaido becomes difficult to trace from here on, a turn to the left, and then the right, brings you back to Ikegami-dori where, off to the left, is Shinagawa Historical Museum.

Opened in 1985, the museum (100 yen admission) stands on the Oi Kashima Archaeological Site, named after Kashima-jinja Shrine in the next block, which was founded in 969 as the tutelary shrine of Oi village. The museum is thought to stand at the center of the ancient post-station village, and the large quantity of artifacts unearthed in 1983 during its construction attests to human habitation since the sixth century. Now, there is a model of an excavated pit house in the lovely museum garden. Meanwhile, among the displays on the first floor is a replica of a shell midden discovered in 1877 by the eminent U.S. zoologist Dr. Edward S. Morse (1838-1925), about 350 meters to the south.

As you leave the museum and proceed to Kashima-jinja, pause at the stop light to look down the road on the left, envisioning the drop of land in the original topography. Just beyond the elevated rail tracks visible ahead is Oi-no Suijin, a small shrine reminiscent of one where local farmers had worshipped the water god since 1685.

Only a few steps inside the gate, Kashima-jinja is cool, sheltered from the traffic by thick stands of old pines, zelkova and laurels. To the right of the main hall, the old wooden shrine dated 1811 has been preserved under a roof. Notice a 200-year-old tabu-no-ki in front of the shrine, and an equally old aka-gashi (Quercus acuta) behind. Interestingly, too, the whole shrine used to be oriented eastward, as Saiko-ji and Kofuku-ji still are, to facilitate their approach from the ancient Tokaido. However, its buildings were switched around at the time of reconstruction in 1931 to cater to modern visitors from the built-up Ikegami-dori.

Continuing on the same highway, stop by the Omori Shell Mounds Memorial Park, which commemorates Dr. Morse's remarkable discovery on June 19, 1877 -- just two days after first arriving in Japan. That day, as he traveled by train from Yokohama to Tokyo, he saw through a window what he instantly believed to be a shell mound. The excavation three months later marked the beginning of the study of archaeology and anthropology in Japan, and a stone monument erected in 1929 in honor of the epoch-making event is located at the far end of the park. However, as the excavated bluff stretches from Oi to Omori, crossing the present-day border between Shinagawa and Ota wards, the latter's Ward Office built its own memorial to Dr. Morse, too, located behind an NTT building that you pass on the way to JR Omori Station.