Regularly photographing in Tokyo’s older areas means slowly but surely documenting disappearing structures. All too often that sadly involves the loss of life as well. The latter in particular an aspect I didn’t really envisage when starting out.
Now, after so many years, it’s something I’m acutely aware of, especially when a business has closed, or yet another home is torn down. A change that begs all kinds of questions, such as did the owner finally retire, want a change, or worse? Getting answers, on the other hand, is sometimes easier said than done, and the fate of the pickle shop owner below was one such unknown.
His colourful little corner was a part of the street I always enjoyed seeing. Then one day he simply wasn’t there anymore. Gone. No sign indicating why. Nothing. Just an empty space and a new building where he had previously always been. That was 5 years ago, so as time went on, I presumed he had passed away, with only the faintest of hopes that he’d simply pickled one too many vegetables and decided to call it a day.
Then, when once again walking by his old spot just recently, there was an old man sitting there. A sight that stopped me in my tracks. It couldn’t be, could it? What would the odds of that be? Still, I had to check, but bringing up a photo on my phone didn’t convince me either way. The only option then was to go and see, and the smile that immediately spread across his face when I asked gave me the answer I was looking for. An absolutely lovely moment to say the least.
He had indeed retired, and living nearby, he was simply chilling out on his former stomping ground. Maybe he was even reminiscing about all the years he’d spent there. That though is the past, and now, having reached 90, he is happy to relax, watch TV, and perhaps more than anything, not work.