A series made over some two years, photographing the daily scenes of a friend's family living in a village and of the people around them. Okuyama did not plan to show it as work: he simply reacted to each moment before him, accepted it and pressed the shutter, and the pictures became the occasion to revive the presence of photography that had stopped for him at some point. Moving between the concrete and the abstract, the book, in four chapters, draws in rich colour what people make and the expanding, sphere-like relationships that begin from a single life, and marks a new departure for Okuyama as an artist with the power of photography's origins. The title, as the call, so the echo, was taken from a phrase that caught his eye in a book he happened to open, and evokes the exchange, as living organisms, between photographer and subject and between photographer and world. Layering time to show the something exchanged between people, the book hopes to reach readers like the moment when a sound that makes no sound is heard. In an essay Mariko Takeuchi writes that, more than six years after his debut, Okuyama paused to confirm one by one the original bond between living and photographing, seeking not the now as image but another now, one that is lived and joined to past and future.