Time Capsule

At Hachinohe, Japan, I was waiting at the train station when a girl (scout, as it turned out) and her mother approached and gave me what they called a cookie. It was soft, warm, and delicious; when pressed, they said it was the sembe, a local specialty.

The girl looked composed and determined and was clearly the one who had the idea to approach me. The mom was a little reluctant at first, and then increasingly engaged, as the girl looked on. It was the day of the first snow during my trip to Japan. It was the beginning of a three hour train journey through snow, mountains and tunnels into Hokkaido. It was the evening, sun more or less down, buildings grey, and the lights unable to do much more than be dull.

Slowly as the train started climbing, snow piling on tree tops, it occurred to me that someday in the future, she would be a grown up, she would have learned to speak English, may be she would have a bad day and remember a good moment, remember the sembe she gave a stranger who was studying the glass mural in the station, she will google "Hachinohe cookie" and would find this blog entry, dated but indelible on the internet.

People fret that blogs are stored forever, what if something innocent of today proves embarassing in the future. I fret too, but this post is more a wish that someone, a particular one, will someday discover what I say today.