When I hear the sound of the wind, I remember my 'Grandpa on the Mountain'.

Have you ever heard the sound of the wind?

The rustling and whispering sounds made by the wind blowing through the leaves and branches of trees can also be considered 'the sound of the wind'.

Sometimes, strong winds like those from a typhoon hit the power lines strung along utility poles, creating a whistling sound, or perhaps a humming noise like a vibrating motor.

Yesterday, when I walked to the bookstore, I was hit by quite a strong wind. The clerk at the coffee shop was having trouble retrieving the banner standing outside because it looked like it was about to fall over.

The flapping of the banner could also be called 'the sound of the wind'.

As I watched the banner being retrieved, I heard not the flapping, but 'the sound of the wind itself'.

There is a theory that since wind is the flow of air, it does not make a sound itself. I am not an expert, so I do not know the details about that.

But the wind clinging to my body was certainly making a sound. Perhaps it makes a sound when it hits my ears, or maybe it even reaches my eardrums and is felt as sound.

At that moment, I suddenly remembered my 'Grandpa on the Mountain'.

When I was a child, I lived in Kokura, Kitakyushu City, with my parents and my younger brother. At the time, the Kitakyushu Industrial Zone was counted as one of the four major industrial zones in Japan.

In elementary school, we learned about the Kitakyushu Industrial Zone using a separate textbook called 'Social Studies for Good Children'. I have strong memories of pollution, such as the contamination of Dokai Bay and the smog emitted from factories, as well as the photochemical smog that resulted from it. This is likely because I had the experience of being forbidden from going out to the schoolyard when a 'photochemical smog warning' was issued.

My mother's father, my grandfather, lived in Yahata, Kitakyushu City. I called him 'Grandpa on the Mountain' because he had built his house halfway up a mountain where you could overlook the industrial zone, including the Yawata Steel Works (at the time), and the city streets.

My grandfather's house was large and had a gate, and a large cycad tree was planted in front of the entrance. Neither the exterior nor the interior was luxurious, but to a child's eyes, it looked like a 'mansion'.

I loved my grandfather because he was very kind to us siblings and our cousins of the same age. My parents would visit his house almost every month to enjoy meals together, and sometimes we children would stay over alone.

It happened once when I was staying over alone and my grandfather had some business to attend to, leaving me by myself. A typhoon was approaching, so the sky was starting to look ominous.

Being in the upper grades of elementary school and at a curious age, I was dying to see the 'typhoon'. I went out into the garden and looked out over the city of Yahata. It was my first time looking down from halfway up a mountain all by myself.

Large black clouds were writhing in the vast sky, and lightning flashed from time to time. I stood there alone, a 'lone boy', feeling excited as if I were watching a show put on by Mother Nature.

Whoosh, whoosh, roar, roar.

The sound of the wind was echoing in my ears the whole time.

It was not the sound of the wind hitting buildings or trees on the ground. It was definitely coming from the vast sky.

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Grandpa would often grill meat for us when we went to visit. 'Mutton,' which was still rare at the time, was so delicious.

Grandpa would take us hiking in the mountains with his Shiba Inu, Shiro. Whenever we found a spring in the grass, he would scare us by saying, 'An 'amonjo' is going to come out!'

When going out to the town of Kurosaki, Grandpa would spend a long time shaving and dressing up carefully. He was a popular guy whom everyone would call out to in the shopping district.

Grandpa was loved by everyone, but he passed away from a cerebral infarction when I was in high school. He was just shy of 80.

According to my mother and uncles, he got caught up in the chaos during the war, moved to Russia, was hired by a wealthy woman, and served as her right-hand man. His achievements were recognized, and his wish to 'do something he wanted to do in Japan' was granted, so he returned home. He had been researching and developing 'chemical seasonings' in a laboratory where he had gathered his own equipment, but he had to swallow his tears when Ajinomoto succeeded just before him.

☆

Even now, when I hear the sound of the wind, I remember my 'mountain grandpa.' I don't feel the same level of excitement as I did back then, but I have reached an age where I earnestly want to leave behind a legacy like his.

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