^{Okazaki Castle}

Often, I walk in Okazaki. All cities in Japan are old, but this one has a history that stands out. The stone walls of Okazaki Castle rise beside me, their weathered surfaces whispering stories of the past. Trees, gnarled and ancient, stretch their branches over the walkways, some undoubtedly having stood here since the time of the Tokugawa shogunate. Beneath my feet, the gravel crunches softly, the sound mingling with the distant calls of crows perched atop the castle’s turrets.

What must this place have looked like decades or even centuries ago? Samurai once stood where I now walk, their swords clanking at their sides, their voices low and measured as they discussed matters of war and strategy. I can close my eyes and imagine merchants hurrying through the castle town, their carts laden with rice, silk, and lacquerware, their heads bowing quickly as a high-ranking retainer passed by.

^{Okazaki Station - by Hiroshige}

A little away from the castle is a well with a sign announcing that Tokugawa Ieyasu took his first bath here. It is closed now, and we can no longer look in. The stones around it are worn smooth from generations of hands resting there. What must it have been like, that moment centuries ago, when the infant who would one day unify Japan was bathed here for the first time? Did his mother gaze down at him, unaware of the weight of history that would rest on his shoulders? Did the midwives whisper about his fate, about the wars that had already begun shaping his destiny?

Legend says that when he was born, a dragon shot from this well, portending his future greatness—but of course, that story only emerged after he had conquered Japan.

^{Okazaki - by Hiroshige}

I am often amazed by the history surrounding me. Ieyasu walked these castle grounds. Perhaps he stood at the same place where I do when I survey the area. Maybe he too looked up at the same stars that still shine over Okazaki at night, wondering about the future and what lay ahead for Japan.

The trees here have seen it all—the feudal lords, the castle sieges, the changing of eras. They stood tall through the Meiji Restoration, as samurai swords were cast aside in favor of rifles and uniforms. They swayed in the winds of war during the Showa era, survived the American bombs that damaged much of Okazaki, and stood silent as a new Japan emerged from the rubble of the past. And now, they cast their shadows over people like me, as we walk along, thinking of this history.

^{Okazaki - Fifty-three Stations of the Tokaido - by Hiroshige}

Not far from the castle was the Okazaki junction of the famous Tōkaidō road. As I walk toward that area, I imagine the sounds of the past layered over the present. The clang of steel as samurai trained in the castle grounds in the distance. The distant clip-clop of horses trotting down the streets of the old castle town. The murmurs of Edo-period travelers stopping at a nearby tea house, resting before their journey to Kyoto or Edo.

What will tomorrow bring? Little in this area is original. The well where Ieyasu was bathed, some of the crumbling stone walls—there’s not much else. A lot was willingly destroyed by the Japanese themselves as they transitioned from the samurai era to the modern one. And much of what survived that transition was then destroyed by American bombs. Only later did people start to look backward and decide to rebuild much of what was lost—concrete replicas of the past.

Will the people of the future once again decide to discard history? Will they tear it all down again?

What do you think about when you walk through historic places? Do you let the past take hold of your imagination, or do you stay grounded in the present?

[note: none of those woodblock prints are closer to the castle, because that's as close as a regular person—a non-samurai—could get. Until modern times, at least. So that was the only view everyone knew.]

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David is an American teacher and translator lost in Japan, trying to capture the beauty of this country one photo at a time and searching for the perfect haiku. He blogs here and at laspina.org. Write him on Mastodon.