A spring picnic on Kabutoyama, overlooking the bay and the sea The sea stretched on beyond the sandbar

One April afternoon, I walked up to the observatory at the top of Kabutoyama. Kumihama Bay spread out below, and the water near the shore looked pale. Farther out was a long, narrow strip of land, with another stretch of blue beyond it. I could see two bodies of water, near and far, all at once. Before opening my lunch, I let my eyes wander over the view.

Holding the little box in one hand, I picked up a bite of Tango barazushi. Beneath the fine ribbons of egg were sweet-and-savory flaked mackerel and vinegared rice. The flavors came together in one bite. After walking uphill, it was easy to focus on the food. Before my next bite, I looked back across the bay.

My friend pointed to the long, narrow strip in the distance. “That’s Shotenkyo, isn’t it?” “Yes. The Sea of Japan is just beyond it,” I said. When we’d been driving along the bay, we couldn’t see the sea on the far side. From above, it was easy to see how the sandbar separated the two stretches of water. I lowered my chopsticks and followed its length with my eyes.

The shore sweeps around in a broad curve on the right, with rectangular fields just behind it. On the left, I could make out a wooded peninsula jutting into the bay. I’d expected a view of nothing but water, but from up here, even the roads along the shore and the shape of the land caught my eye. My friend and I talked about which way to go back. Even while eating lunch, I was picking out roads below.

I took another bite of barazushi, shifting my gaze between the box and the bay. Bringing food from the area up the mountain made even our break feel like part of the place. After seeing the sea beyond Shotenkyo, I want to go closer to the sandbar next. That spring afternoon at the summit gave me a reason to keep exploring Kumihama.