When Uricon the city stood:
'Tis the old wind in the old anger,
But then it threshed another wood.
(Googling for the poem gets me lots of pictures of clothes hangers and the query 'do you mean bolt and hanger?' No, I'm really not looking for climbing equipment.)
It is fall, definitely. Red begins to spread into the trees. Grey and cream skies with occasional rifts of horizon yellow where the sun has set. L'heure bleue (or grise, if it's overcast) happens at 7 now and the evening becomes an indoors domestic thing- "Darkness outside; inside, the radio's prayer."
A passage from Pandemonium and Parade about the 'new' youkai which, Foster avers, the great youkai encyclopediast Sekien made up himself and inserted into his work. (On what evidence is unclear.)
The development of new yokai begins as a creative movement from the abstract to the concrete, where by a phenomenon (a sound, a feeling, a language game) is translated into a visible character...Which I'm sure is what happened with a lot of youkai, but needn't have been a conscious creative effort on anyone's part.
Taken one step further, a yokai, such as Sekien's mokumokuren, translated an effective phenomenon, a vague feeling or experience, into a visual image. Imagine you are alone, taking shelter in a dilapidated, abandoned country house. You have a troubling, unshakable sense that somebody or something is watching you. The mokumokuren embodies this feeling. Sekien's illustration shows the corner of a dwelling overgrown with weeds. The paper of the shoji screen is ragged and torn, and a set of eyes peers from each section*.
Although as Foster points out, "the multiple eyes in the shoji are not particularly threatening; in fact, they look somewhat perplexed, almost comical." Doodle eyes, an historical specialty.
*Sekien's illustration can be seen in the wiki article on mokumokuren.