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A life alone doesn't necessarily mean a lonely life.
Tsutomu lives a life of solitude, alone in his mountain cabin, with rarely a visit from people. His only companions are his dog, his gardens and nature. Living season by season, month after month, life just goes by for the writer.
As he experiences nature bloom and wilt it's way as time passes, he reminisces his past and contemplates his future. Harvesting seasonal produce, cooking it the way he was taught to as a novice monk, reminiscing about his childhood. Meeting his editor, who worked with his late wife, who he cannot move on from, still hanging onto all remnants of her. His carpenter friend, his mother in law, his gardening, everything around him is a reminder of his past and it continues to dwell on his present.
A few unexpected events then allow him to contemplate on his future, whether he should embrace his past and gain closure. His slow life, seemingly devoid of meaning suddenly has more and less meaning than it did before.
An introspective, slow burner, even if doesn't manage to keep you on your toes, I don't think they ever meant it to.
As he experiences nature bloom and wilt it's way as time passes, he reminisces his past and contemplates his future. Harvesting seasonal produce, cooking it the way he was taught to as a novice monk, reminiscing about his childhood. Meeting his editor, who worked with his late wife, who he cannot move on from, still hanging onto all remnants of her. His carpenter friend, his mother in law, his gardening, everything around him is a reminder of his past and it continues to dwell on his present.
A few unexpected events then allow him to contemplate on his future, whether he should embrace his past and gain closure. His slow life, seemingly devoid of meaning suddenly has more and less meaning than it did before.
An introspective, slow burner, even if doesn't manage to keep you on your toes, I don't think they ever meant it to.
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