Today my friend left Russia to return to Italy.
I seem to hear it, the feeling when you know that your eyes are posing for the last time on those objects on the landscape on that environment that you've called home for a while.
It made me rethink how I greeted Tokamachi before I go: I started three days before turning on the bike for all the places for me were tied to a memory ... those who had hosted a number of occasions in the film, where I met new friends, those where we had stopped talking at night and where I loved to go alone.
I greet everyone, even the cups of tea in the kitchen, and throughout there was a look a little longer, trying to impress you as long as that image into memory.
Finally of course I left the temple, the one with the pond full of carp and frogs, statues of Jizo, the big bell and the cat round the Monaco ...
I parked the bike in front of the Buddha and I separated from my Japanese cell manekineko with the bell, I hid among the trees just in front of the statue: If I could go every night to watch it, somehow it would he did for me.
Even now at night when I miss my walk to the temple, I think my cat and that part of me still hidden among the leaves and I feel a little less distant.
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