Mount Shinobu From Karasugasaki, the railway line runs straight through the city

One April morning, I stopped at Karasugasaki on Mount Shinobu. Beyond the trees to my left, Fukushima spread out below. On the drive through the city, I’d seen the buildings one by one. From here, I could see how the whole city was laid out.

My friend and I followed the railway line through the city with our eyes. It ran straight from nearby into the distance, a fine line across the view. Looking at the rooftops and the shape of the roads, I started seeing a city I usually drive through in a new way.

After the walk, I opened the cup of strawberries I’d brought with me. Today, I wanted to enjoy Fukushima’s spring fruit with this view. I held the cup in one hand and brought a berry to my lips with the other.

The first bite was sweet, with a little tartness at the end. “I’m glad we went with strawberries,” I told my friend. With the flavour still on my tongue, I looked back at the city. The railway line we’d traced a moment ago was there again, and now I wanted to see the mountains beyond it too.

I pulled my coat closed and looked over the broad rooftops and tightly packed houses. The distant mountains faded into the sky, and the city stretched out between them and me. From up here, I could take in the city I’d be driving through next.

I picked another berry from the cup. We chatted, taking in the view between bites. Once back in the car, we’d drive through the city I’d just seen from above, this time at street level. That pause in the middle of a spring drive left me looking forward to the rest of the journey.