A Morning Break at Yakumo Town Livestock Farm Lookout The breeze and Uchiura Bay beyond the trees

I came up to the high ground at Yakumo Town's farm on a July morning. I meant to look at the sea, but the first thing I noticed was the layers of trees on the slope. When I stepped closer to the wooden fence, I could see the bay spreading out beyond it. It wasn't one vast, open panorama; I liked picking out the view in fragments through the trees. Before I knew it, my whole body was turned toward the sea.

A gust lifted the brim of my straw hat. I gently held it down with one hand as my hair brushed past my cheek in the breeze. The hem of my white dress stirred too, and I felt the morning air more keenly than when I first stepped out of the car. It felt like a treat to be able to pause somewhere like this so early in the day. I'd planned to hurry on to the next stop, but I wanted to push back my departure time a little.

Between me and Uchiura Bay, the town's rooftops looked tiny. The seaside town I'd driven through earlier now seemed tucked among the trees from up here. While I was on the road, it hadn't occurred to me that the mountain, town, and sea were all so close together. Still holding my hat, I let my gaze travel over the rooftops and out across the bay, then took another deep breath.

Scallop farming is thriving in these waters. Yakumo's scallops are raised on ropes using the “ear-hanging” method. I couldn't see them from up here, but people were carefully raising scallops beneath the surface of the very bay I was looking at. I'd come to take in the view, but somehow that led straight to thoughts of food—and suddenly I couldn't wait for lunch.

When I pictured those plump, sweet scallops, I couldn't help smiling. I thought it was too early to be hungry, but just hearing about the bay made me want to eat them. For now, I could enjoy the view; later, once I got back into town, maybe I'd enjoy a taste of the sea too. Somehow, this little morning detour made me look forward to the rest of the trip even more.

When I started to head back, a gust lifted my hat again. I caught it, then laughed to myself. Even though I meant to leave, my face was still turned toward the bay. The trees beyond the fence, the sea beyond them. Nothing dramatic happened, but I have a feeling I'll remember the time I spent standing there in the breeze, taking in the view. I stayed just a little longer before slowly walking back to the car.