When I parked, I spotted an island across the sea Early October on Miyakejima: sea views from the reddish-brown slopes

On a warm afternoon in early October, I came to Shichitō Observatory. The view opened up at the end of the mountain road, and the sea stretched out beyond the reddish-brown ground. I parked in the clearing and turned off the engine. I was wearing a pale blue checked top with white shorts that day. I left my sunglasses perched on my head and opened the car door.

I perched on the edge of the open door, my feet on the ground, facing the sea. Far off, I could make out a single broad island silhouette. I shaded my eyes with my right hand, and its outline came into sharper focus. The sea and sky seemed wider here than from the shoreline. Thinking back to the road I’d climbed made me appreciate this view even more.

I’d heard that on clear days you can see across the Izu Islands from Shichitō Observatory. Instead of trying to count every island, today I wanted to take in the one I could see in front of me. Low clouds hung above the mountain ridges, and the sea shimmered. I let my gaze travel slowly from one end of that island to the other.

When I lowered my eyes, fine volcanic gravel covered the ground around the car. The hill itself had formed as lava and scoria built up in layers. I’d been focused on the distant islands, but the ground beneath me felt just as much a part of Miyakejima. Looking from the reddish-brown stones by my shoes out to the sea made me feel how far I’d come.

After a rest, I wanted to pick up one of the island’s snacks, too. Milk crackers would be a treat I could bring home and enjoy later. I took one last look at the islands from where I was sitting, then stood up. The sea had seemed so much wider from up here than from the shore, and I was glad I’d climbed the mountain. Before heading back to the road, I took one more deep breath.