Manzamo A summer afternoon with the sea breeze all around me

On a July afternoon, I was looking out over the sea at Manzamo. A huge rocky overhang rose in front of me, with a wide opening beneath it. I'd heard it looked like an elephant's trunk, and it really does. I thought I already knew its shape from the photos, but when I watched the waves roll into the opening beneath it, I couldn't speak for a while.

A breeze blew in from the sea and lifted my hair. I was glad I'd tied the chin strap on my straw hat. I touched the brim, then let go, and the wind slipped across my cheek. I came here for the view, but I hadn't expected the breeze to feel this good, too. It felt like a little bonus.

I stretched both arms out and took a deep breath. Air filled my lungs and the tension slipped from my shoulders. As I stood there laughing with my arms spread, I felt almost as big as the elephant's trunk. Of course, I'm much smaller than the rock. In spirit, though.

Once I'd stopped laughing, I looked at the opening in the rock again. Before, I'd been focused on its shape, but every wave breaking below made me realize just how massive the rock was. I took in the grass across the plateau, the rough cliff face, and the sea stretching far into the distance. As I let my gaze wander, the same view took my breath away all over again.

Manzamo is said to take its name from King Shō Kei, who praised it as 'a grassy plain wide enough for ten thousand people to sit on.' Remembering that, I wondered if people long ago had felt that same joy as they looked out over the plateau. My first instinct is to spread my arms before I think too hard, but the sheer openness still got through to me.

Before leaving, I stayed a little longer to feel the sea breeze. What I want to remember most from today is the first moment I saw that rock and the smile that came after my deep breath. When I tell my friend about it, I'll probably spread my arms as I talk. That might be the best way to show her just how good it felt.