“Sunrise Over the Kamogawa” by Ina Sanjana (UK citizen living in Kyoto)

From the judges: “Homelessness within Kyoto is a rarely discussed topic, and Kamogawa Park is often viewed more as a recreational area for joggers, cyclists, children, dog walkers, couples, and instrumentalists. The judges appreciated this alternative perspective.”

Sunrise Over the Kamogawa

In the daytime, he would like someone to look his way and see him. He would like to hear someone say his name, even in contempt.

He catches snippets of gossip from the passers-by, and stitches them together day by day. The city has spent money on new announcements in the shopping street. On signs. On apps. On leaflets.

It rained last night, and his socks and shoes are damp. He sets them out to dry beside a bench, and lies down for a nap.

Looking up, he notices that someone has looped a string through a bike key and hung it reverently from a branch, so that it might be reunited with its owner. It swings back and forth in the breeze. He shuts his eyes firmly, and drifts off to sleep.

Darkness falls. Around 1am, after the last trains have departed, the night is his. He ambles down to collect the discarded drinks cans by the water’s edge. He necks a lingering mouthful here and there. Later, in the morning light, the volunteers with their litter-pickers will descend, snaking down the river that they groom and dote upon.

When his bags are full of cans to sell, he rinses his hands in the clear water, wincing from the cold. He settles by the bank to rest.

He watches as the sky over the mountains fades from black to purple. He lets himself feel the ache in his back, the chill in his bones, and the weight in his heart. In this calm and stillness, they don’t seem so overwhelming. The mountains and the sky remain the same day after day, constant and indifferent to everything, and the clear, cherished water flows on and on, as it will for another thousand years.