Like memories, many of my favourite photographs came from a place of misfortune.

We were on a 10-hour walking trail in Yakusugi-land, and the island is known to rain 35 days a month.
Father-in-law bought windbreakers instead of raincoats and at the 4th-hour mark, he gave up and asked us to leave him.
Like Ubasute - the mythical practice whereby elders were carried by their children to a mountain or somewhere remote to die.

How about we just take a group photo and walk back, I suggested.
I took out my camera, and the LCD screen was - I kid you not - filled with water like a mini fish tank.

And with my muscle reaction, I stupidly turned the camera on.

It was a painful walk back to the starting point, back to the bus, back to the hotel, back to the bed.
For the rest of the trip, I relied on my iPhone. Every other day I’d turn the camera on just to check.

After a week or so, as we stayed in a hotel next to Kirishima, it miraculously came back to life.

I rushed out to the balcony to take a few photos of the river, and the camera went back to sleep.