Kanazawa

As the late summer vacation, I visited Kanazawa with my mother and this was a trip down her memory lane. She was born and brought up in Kanazawa till her whole family moved to Tokyo　at her age of seven. Then, when she was nineteen-year-old, she ran away from home and she boaded at Goriya, one of the high-class Japanese restaurants in Kanazawa. There, working at men's clothing store, she was given a free room and meals with a deal that she would take care of a blind old lady who was the grand mother of the owner. For her, Kanazawa was her second home town.

When I was little, we went to Kanazawa once, but I only remembered two things: I was watching the thick clouds from the airplane that could not land for an hour or so due to the heavy snow and we walked at a local shopping mall to find rain boots for the snow. She got me red rain boots and I was really excited about walking with the new boots in the heavy snow.
Having said that, this was like my first trip to Kanazawa.

We visited some places where she had associations with, like a site where she was brought up, parks where she used to play around, shrines and some small streets. While visiting each, she seemed filled with emotions. Sometimes, she was staying silent, and other times, she signed out, staring at the place that changed its face or she acted like a kid, saying,
"wow, wow, I remember this!"
It was really moving to me to follow her footsteps in the past and to experience the town in her perspective.

One afternoon, we visited Goriya located by the Asano River. Japanese traditional wooden building was still remained. It was gracious and classical. She tried opening the bamboo gate that was led to the main entrance of the restaurant, but the gate was locked. She knocked the back door, yet there was only silence. An old lady passing by the street looked at us as if we were strange people. So, my mother stopped her to ask about what happened to Goriya.
"Ah, it was closed in a few years ago and nobody lived anymore. We have no idea about where the son of the owner went. I guess he ran away."
"I see, I used to live here to take care of the old grand mother...."
My mother looked sad.

It was a hot and humid day in spite that its already September. The sun was setting, the clouds were glowing pale pink, cicadas were singing loud and the wind were faintly blowing and shaking leaves of willows. Mountain ranges dimmed in the far distance.
We were looking at the sunset glow on the bridge near Goriya.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" I said.
I could not say such a comment like, "it's pity that Goriya was closed," as it would sound so superficial. Well, before then, it's apparent.

"Yeah, beautiful, well, I often took the blind old lady for walk along the river back in those days," she said with her distant eyes.

We strolled along the banks of the Asano River.

The time has past and there isn't anything that's constant. However, I thought, the river, these willows and these mountains had been there and witnessed all the changes and dramas in this area. Perhaps my mother was in the pictures as well. I was not sure if it might have been because of the ambience or not, but I could visualize my mother taking this old lady for walk by the river around the time of the day when we were now.

To me, the scenery was like a movie set and somehow, in the whole area, there was a sense of good old days remained. The flow of time was slow and gentle.