Shikoku Karst The highland breeze had me humming before I knew it

As I climbed the mountain road, the breeze coming into the car felt so good. I kept my eyes on the road, both hands on the wheel. The road kept winding through grassland; it was hard to believe I’d been surrounded by trees just moments before. I was already looking forward to what lay ahead.

Shikoku Karst was more than just wide-open grassland. Limestone rose through the grass, and I was amazed to find a place like this up in the mountains. I drove on, watching the road curve ahead. I loved seeing the road and grassland stretch together into the distance.

I was enjoying the breeze when I caught myself humming softly. I hadn’t meant to hum at all, but once I noticed, I was already humming the next few notes. Still looking ahead with both hands on the wheel, I found myself smiling a little. I guess when a tune gets going, the next note just comes, even when I try to stop.

There were cattle in the pasture, and they made the whole scene feel so peaceful. I wondered if they could hear me humming. Suddenly I felt self-conscious and lowered my voice. They probably hadn’t noticed, but there I was, embarrassed all by myself.

After that, I kept turning the wheel gently to follow each bend. When my humming stopped, I could hear the wind again. Humming along felt good; so did just driving in silence. My heart felt full at the thought that I’d found a place where just being there was enough.

Even after I left the highlands, that breeze stayed with me. Whenever I think back to it, I feel like I might start humming that tune again. I came away loving the view and feeling a little more fond of myself behind the wheel. I want to drive that road again in summer.