Exploring Chomonkyo Gorge Taking a pear to Ryugu-buchi for an autumn walk along the Abu River

At the beginning of November, I parked my red car at Ryugu-buchi. Trees climbed right up the mountainside, so autumn had already surrounded me before I even stepped out. I wore a short sweatshirt and pink shorts under a camel coat. I straightened the black jacket tied around my waist and closed the car door.

Before setting off, I cupped the Ato pear I'd brought in both hands. Its skin was dotted with tiny speckles, and the round pear fit snugly in my hands. I was here to see the river, but I was already grinning at the thought of the pear too. I wanted to eat it right away, but tucked it into my bag to enjoy after the walk instead.

At Ryugu-buchi, I came out beside the river, where trees spread their branches over the still water. I'd been looking up at the mountain leaves in the car park; now the autumn leaves were reflected in the water too. I kept looking up at the trees and down at their reflections until my feet stopped without me noticing. I wanted to stay with that first view a little longer instead of hurrying on.

As I walked along the river, the scene shifted from the quiet of a deep pool to the sound of water rushing beside the rocks. I'd thought I came just to see the leaves, but at Chomonkyo Gorge, even the movement of the water kept catching my attention. I stopped where the current changed and found myself watching all over again. I couldn't believe the same river could look so different from one stretch to the next. I was already looking forward to passing through that spot on my way back.

After a little rest back at the car, I took the pear out of my bag. I bit into a slice, and its juice filled my mouth. Maybe it was because I'd just walked, but that cool juice tasted especially good, and I was reaching for another slice before I knew it. I heard that pears have been grown in Ato, home to Chomonkyo Gorge, since 1906. I came for the scenery, but getting to taste something grown here made the trip feel even more special.

Closing my bag after eating left me with a different kind of contentment than I'd felt holding the pear at the entrance. I got to look up at the mountain, take in the river, then savor a few bites after the walk. I felt closer to Chomonkyo Gorge than I would have on a quick stop just to take photos. On the way back, I kept my eyes on the road and my hands on the wheel, already wishing I could walk here again next autumn.