A Drive to Roadside Station Ipponmatsu View Park The scent of white peaches and islands across the Seto Inland Sea

One afternoon in late July, I drove along the Okayama Blue Line and stopped at Ipponmatsu View Park. With both hands on the wheel and my eyes on the road, I was looking forward to eating the white peach I'd brought along once I stopped. After parking the car, I stepped into the plaza and saw the sea and islands beyond the trees. I was hungry, and yet I stopped in my tracks before I even took out the peach.

Standing at the black railing, I could see more sea beyond a small island, and farther out, the long ridge of another island stretched along the horizon. I was captivated by the islands layered one behind another, not just by the wide sweep of the sea. My driving buddy pointed to the bench by the telescope and said, “Let's take a break here.” I nodded, but glanced back at the water once more on the way to the bench.

I held the white peach in both hands and brought it close to my nose. Its sweet fragrance made me smile before I even tasted it. A breeze brushed my bare shoulders and took the edge off the heat. I looked away from the peach and back at the sea, wanting to remember its scent along with this view.

My friend asked, “Aren't you going to eat it yet?” “I want to, but I'd like to enjoy the scent a little longer,” I said. I'd been excited to eat it all along the drive, so even I found it funny that I was hesitating right before the first bite. My friend sat down first and laughed. “I'll go ahead and take my break, then.” Still holding my peach, I took one more look at the small island, then sat down beside my friend.

I peeled the peach over the container I'd brought and finally took a bite. The soft flesh filled my mouth with juice, and this time I forgot all about the sea. “I'm so glad I brought this,” I said. “You were looking forward to that all the way here, weren't you?” my friend said with a laugh. I'd been perfectly happy just enjoying the scent, but once I'd tasted it, I could hardly wait for the next bite. I was sorry when I got to the last bite, so I looked out at the sea and savored it slowly.

Even after I'd finished, I couldn't get up right away. The sea spread out beyond the bench, and as I traced the island ridges with my eyes, another breeze came through. On the way back to the car, my friend asked, “Should we bring another peach next time?” “I want to eat one here again,” I answered straight away. Whenever I take a break along the Okayama Blue Line, I want it to be here, in this plaza. As I got behind the wheel again, I remembered eating that white peach with the sea in front of me, and found myself smiling.