Such natural beauty is always around for respite if one just takes the time to see it. Parents and friends often distribute this advice to cheer up those who may become discouraged by the rainy season, or whatever may be troubling them, perhaps even the economic recession. By mid-July, the sun begins to appear regularly and the festivals begin. In fact, some teams of mikoshi bearers wear no clothing at all except a white loincloth called a fundoshi. The men, ranging from 10 to 50 in number depending on the size of the mikoshi, shoulder the wooden poles to which the mikoshi has been securely strapped and chant their way through the streets, careening from the weight of the shrine and the effects of the sake they have been drinking.
Crowds gather and the merriment intoxicates the air.
Sometimes the mikoshi is so large the men cannot carry it and must pull it on a float to prevent an accident, thus protecting the dignity of the god within. The music of drums, flutes, and bells plus the press of sweating bodies weaving through the onlookers inspire Japanese throughout the country to revel in summer. The story came from China originally. Rumor has it that the girl's father imposed this unlucky fate on the hapless lovers because the Shepard's attentions caused her to slack off on her weaving. In the past, before people watched the Sendai Tanabata festival on television, enthusiasts would gather anxiously and watch the sky for clear weather, decorate their homes with bamboo, and offer sweets and fruits to the lovers, praying for the reunion of the Weaver and the Shepherd.