As I walked through these villages where everything had been washed away, including houses and sea walls, there were traces to indicate where once had been a road. People had started to walk again on these traces, reforming a path on top of the original. It was as if the road had a life of its own. I have taken countless photographs on roads that have been trodden by people over many ages. These roads become superimposed on the roads I see in the disaster region, and these also seem overlaid with the road from Anshan along which my family fled as refugees.