I already knew that Mrs. Kiyohashi was a member of the family that owns a leading sake brewing company in Japan. A certain event apparently sparked her decision to open a brewery in the UK. Through sake, she wanted to share the traditions, culture, and spirituality of Japan with the British people and the world. It’s a great idea but difficult to implement — everyone she consulted gave her the same response.

But she didn’t give up. After a long process that presented her with various obstacles as well as many serendipitous experiences and encouraging encounters, she finally managed to open the UK’s first sake brewery here around five years ago. I was treated to this epic story at the reception.

I told her right on the spot that I wanted to visit the brewery. One reason was to see the place where she had fulfilled her dream, but more than anything, her sake was so good that it made me eager to try it in its birthplace.

And here I was, with Mrs. Kiyohashi walking in front of me. Her white tunic billowed out in the breeze. There was a huge tree where she was headed. “Wow,” I exclaimed.

“It’s this tree. I found this tree.”

She turned to me and broke into a smile.

I couldn’t tell what kind of tree it was because I’d never seen any trees of that scale before, but I was just stunned. Branches of deep red-purple leaves sprawled luxuriantly in every direction, while the chirping of birds could be heard from all around. When I stood under the thick canopy of leaves, it felt as though I was being welcomed into a big, incredibly comfortable home.

Mrs. Kiyohashi approached the sturdy tree trunk, saying, “When I first came to view the property, this tree seemed to be beckoning me... so I went over like this...”

She hugged the trunk tightly. Following along, I drew closer to the tree like iron sand attracted to a magnet, then threw my arms around the thick trunk in a big embrace.

It must have been a childish act, but I didn’t care; I just let my body rest comfortably on the gigantic tree. I felt like I could sense her determination through the tree — from that moment when she decided to embark on a new challenge at this estate.

Mrs. Kiyohashi then showed me the flowers blooming all around the garden, the Japanese garden specially created by a British garden designer, a small vegetable garden and orchard, and finally the brewery. A young woman appeared, carrying freshly made sake on a silver tray.

“This is Miwako, my eldest. Her brother usually looks after the brewery but he’s unfortunately away today.”

While Mrs. Kiyohashi regularly traveled between Japan and the UK, her children had established their lives here — brewing sake, preserving sake, serving sake, living with sake. They maintained the house and beautiful nature-filled garden that were once home to the lord of the area, welcoming their guests with wholehearted hospitality.

Miwako flashed a coy smile as she offered me the glass of transparent liquid. The evening sunlight filtered through her long black hair, casting a glow on her radiant cheeks, while a pearl pendant peeked out from the collar of her white cotton shirt. The perfectly round white pearl provided an icy accent to her slightly tanned skin. She was like a refreshing summer evening breeze.

I picked up the crystal-clear glass and sipped a mouthful. A pristine stream trickled through the center of my body. “So good.” Those words naturally spilled out.

“Thank you,” the mother and daughter naturally responded together.

It was an ordinary moment, but a moment of happiness. And at that point in time, what came to my mind was a naïve thought: I wish time would stop.

My heart was now filled with the same feeling as back then.

I could no longer look them straight in the eyes. I watched the pearls adorning Mrs. Kiyohashi’s neck as they sparkled in the candlelight with every subtle movement.

“No, they won’t disappear.”

I heard Mrs. Kiyohashi’s voice. It was a gentle voice, like a chord played on a piano.

“This place will always be here... so please visit us again.”

I lifted my gaze.

The huge tree was now silhouetted, watching over us with a protective presence.

It might have been a dream. But in that moment, time truly stood still.