Sun and Moon

I arrived in a Shanghai where the sun had already set. There, as if in defiance, stood row upon row of high-rise buildings glittering with dazzling lights. Yet step away from the cluster of towers, and here and there lie streetscapes steeped in a nostalgic, gentle twilight glow, evoking the good Japan of the Showa era. These two vastly different settings call to mind an age caught between the new and the old, and if anything, I find the latter the more comforting.

The kanji “明” (bright) is made up of the sun (日) and the moon (月). By day the light of the sun, and by night the light of the moon—so, I imagine, our forebears conceived it. It is true that a city that never sleeps around the clock supports the lives of many people, but for the many living things other than humans, how must it be?

At heart, I would like to believe that the advance of civilization means building an Earth where every living thing can pass its days in peace. After returning home, seeing the foliage plants set in a brilliantly lit pharmacy in front of the station, I felt this all the more strongly.