Ten ni Tsuzuku Michi Arms wide for the sunset at the end of the road

At dusk, I looked down the length of Ten ni Tsuzuku Michi. The straight road ran between fields and windbreaks, growing narrower in the distance until it seemed to dissolve beneath the sky. It had felt so long on the way here, but from above, the view looked far bigger than I’d imagined. I caught my breath.

As I watched, the sun slowly sank towards the end of the road. A moment ago, the road and the sun had seemed separate; now they were drawing closer. I couldn’t look away, wondering if they’d meet. “Beautiful” didn’t feel like enough. I tried to say something, but no words came.

The moment the sun lined up perfectly with the road, my heart jumped. The road really did seem to reach the sky, and before I knew it, I’d spread my arms wide. I wasn’t trying to grab hold of anything. I was just so happy to be there that I couldn’t keep it all inside.

Still with my arms spread, I laughed a little. I’d come to watch the sunset, but I looked as if I were sending the sun a signal too. Was I trying to tell it, “I’m right here”? It couldn’t answer, of course, but I still found myself wishing it wouldn’t set just yet.

But the sun kept sinking, slowly but surely. Each time the light along the road shifted, I realised that moment wouldn’t come again. I like taking photos, but that evening I wanted to stay right there and watch. Even after I lowered my arms, my heart kept thumping.

Even after the sun disappeared below the horizon, I stayed there, looking down the road for a while. When I got home, I’d tell my friend all about the way I’d spread my arms. She’d probably tease me a little, but that was fine. Somehow, I felt the words alone wouldn’t convey just how happy I’d been.