The Witch Granma

On March 12th, I took a stroll at the foot of the small mountain behind my house.  I wanted to check on the budding cherry blossoms and capture their progress in photos.

During my walk, a woman on a bicycle passed by with a quick "Hello."   She sped ahead, but then, curiously, she slowed down, stopped, and turned to look at me.

That’s when I recognized her—the elderly woman I used to chat with in this area.   Three years ago, she told me she was 75, so she must be about 78 now. However, judging by her energy and agility, you’d never guess her age.

We exchanged warm greetings, and she mentioned that her grandchildren from Kobe would be visiting soon.  She was busy planting crops in her field to prepare for their arrival.

Her youthful energy and enthusiasm for life are truly inspiring.  Despite our nearly 20-year age gap, she seems more spirited than I am.

She once told me that she lives alone in a small house filled with flowers. Her late husband was a hunter, and together they had two loyal hunting dogs.  Now, instead of tracking deer, she dedicates herself to her garden, filling it with vibrant blossoms.

"The primrose that blooms in early spring is very cute, but if you touch its stem with bare hands, your skin might get irritated—so be careful," she kindly told me. Even now, three years later, I still remember her words.

I’ve always admired her wisdom, independence, and deep knowledge of plants and flowers. In my mind, I affectionately call her the "witch grandma"—not because she’s old, but because she has a special kind of magic that makes life bloom around her.

　　　　　　　　　the primerose