Six days ago, Tohoku was blasted by one of the most powerful earthquakes in recorded history. A few minutes later, the quake was followed by a tsunami that, in some areas, crested 15 meters. The footage is stunning, and a lot of it is of Natori. From the air, the wave looks like a ripple in a pond. It washes up on the shore over Yuriage, crashing through the pines along the beach, swelling over the Cycling Center where I stayed for a Gasshuku once, washing up the Asaichi morning market, and spilling into the village. It plucks houses and shops like fruit. Sasaki Isou's little sake store, where I bought bottles and bottles of Natori Monogatari Nihonshuu for friends at home, is among the buildings. So is the grandparents' home of the Yamada family. Tiny cars so far below drive frantically away and are overtaken. I can't help but wonder who is driving, and if I know them.
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