After the Mugwort Mochi, I Took Another Look at Mount Fuji A Winter Lunch Break at Nijumagari Pass, Looking Out over the Oshino Basin

I brought some mugwort mochi I’d bought in Oshino Village up to the viewing terrace at Nijumagari Pass. From the lookout park’s car park, I followed the path to the wooden deck, and Mount Fuji opened up right in front of me. I’d meant to unwrap the mochi first, but my hand froze in my bag.

I knew the shape of the mountain from photos, but up close its foothills stretched so much farther than I’d imagined. Beyond the railing was a forest, and below it I could make out the little houses in Oshino. I wondered where the mountain began as I traced it with my eyes from the basin to the summit, and found my head still tipped back.

I held the mugwort mochi in its paper wrapper and blew on the toasted spot. The scent of mugwort grew stronger, and just like that, my attention switched to the snack. With one bite, I could feel how different the outside was from the chewy middle. I tucked my chin into my gray coat collar and gave the next bite a little longer to cool.

There were benches spaced along the deck, and the basin looked different even when I moved just a little. After I finished eating, I freed both hands and looked out at the view. Watching the line of snow on Mount Fuji, I found myself wondering if the midday sky had always felt this wide.

The photo I took before leaving has the wooden railing in the foreground, with Mount Fuji far in the distance. It feels like a better reminder of my mochi break here than a close-up of the mountain alone. As I folded the wrapper into a small square and tucked it into my bag, I found myself thinking that next time, I’d like to take my time exploring the village too.