Small Flowers

The photos depict moments that might otherwise be overlooked in our daily lives.

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Autumn leaves behind the bushes

In Hananuki Valley, I found the autumn leaves that were at their best, hidden the bushes on the side of the road.

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Are you happy with the personalized world for you?

This photo was selected by Google Photos as one of the best photos of last November. I kind of get it, but I don't really understand the criteria for selecting it as the best photo.... Besides, I'm not too happy about being chosen by Google....

Especially in my post-Corona telework-oriented life, where the frequency of my Internet use has increased dramatically, I feel that these selections and suggestions are often made on their own these days. When I start up my computer, a picture of a beautiful foreign landscape is displayed and I am asked, "Do you like it?" If you answer "yes," you will see only the same kind of pictures from then on. As I search and browse on Google, articles on the subject I have been searching for frequently come up at the top of the list. When I introduced an inn I had stayed at on this blog, I visited the inn's website to find out its official name, and immediately received an e-mail from a travel reservation site offering a discount on that inn.

I used to think this was convenient, efficient, and comfortable, but recently, I began to wonder if this was the right way to go. It all started when I started this blog.

A blog is a place where the world of the writer expands. There are all kinds of worlds spreading out, and they are colorful. Reading these blogs is like strolling down a street lined with general stores where you can find all kinds of things. I like visiting general stores because I get the thrill of not knowing what I will find, and the joy of unexpectedly finding something I like.

The blogs are just like that. The entrance door is always open, and the moment you enter, there is a whole world out there. If you go outside and enter another shop, there is a completely different world. I am surprised to find that there are so many different themes, atmospheres, and styles of writing, and it is very stimulating.

I realized how much I had been surrounded by information that was tailored to my own needs. I am always exposed to things that match my interests and themes that I like. I am teleworking-centered, and I am less able to exchange opinions with various people. My life is more Internet-centered than before, and when I search, I have already set my own search terms and receive only that information. As noted above, even if I do not wish to receive such information, it is preferentially sent to me on the Internet, and before I know it, I am exposed only to such information. The word "diversity" is now often heard, but I have come to think that if I live only in such a personalized world, I will become more and more narrow-minded, less accepting of other things, and less open-minded to a variety of things.

The blogs are a treasure trove of diversity. I am especially moved when I see that the blog of someone who has put a like on my blog has a completely different atmosphere than my own. I am impressed by the fact that someone with such a different world from my own has shared the same feelings as mine. The very act of reading, empathizing with, and rating various blogs can be a training exercise in developing an open mind toward diversity.

A personalized space or world that is tailored to one's own specifications is certainly comfortable. However, sometimes you can gain a variety of stimulation and perspectives by daring to dive into a world that is not entirely up to your own specifications. From there, your world will expand to infinity, and that in itself is exciting. Blogs provide me with many such opportunities.

So, I think it's time to end today's blog here and go on a "general store tour!"

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Let us shout, "Stop the fighting in Gaza right now!" How can we stand idly by while innocent civilians, especially small children, are left to die? The world should listen to this song now!

Sign the Petition

#CeasefireNow: Open Call for an Immediate Ceasefire in the Gaza Strip and Israel

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Looking up at the sky and thinking

I was sitting on the terrace, shoveling down a loaf of bread, with less than an hour to spare before my afternoon appointment at the ophthalmologist's office. I looked up at the sky and thought, (Oh, it's a beautiful day, the greenery is so beautiful.) But somehow, the next moment, my thoughts went in a completely different direction. (Come to think of it, it was a beautiful day when the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, wasn't it? If the bomb were dropped now, for example, the roof of the terrace seen above, the lush greenery, and the skyscraper behind it would be blown away in an instant. In the blink of an eye, this colorful landscape would be reduced to one dark monotone. I guess those sacrifices of the past have protected this blue sky today.) Further thoughts continue. (But if we follow this blue sky further and further, it will lead us to Ukraine and Gaza, which are in the midst of war right now. This clear blue autumn sky is changing colors and will eventually lead to a gray sky with smoke from bombings and dust from debris flying up from the ground...)

A TV news program the other day. A 12-year-old girl who was participating in a demonstration in support of Palestine in the U.S. was crying and screaming into the camera. "Children my age are being killed!" At this age, how could anyone think of a tragedy happening in a faraway country as if it were happening to a family member or close friend? When I was 12 years old, the Palestinian-Israeli problem already existed. However, I guess I did not even know where Palestine and Israel were, let alone that the problem existed....

Nowadays, we receive live images from all kinds of media, even from countries that are at war with each other. We are able to learn about the current situation through the media as if we ourselves were in wartime. We should think of this as an era in which we can more easily relate to the feelings of people in wartime because we are given a sense of reality as if we were there ourselves, but has our interest evolved? Aren't we now so overloaded with images that we have become accustomed to "seeing" war through the media?

I was working for an NGO in Japan when the Israeli army invaded Gaza in 2014. Even though we were a humanitarian aid organization, we could not stop the bombing and go to the aid of the people right now, and the most we could do was to inform as many people as possible about the situation in the region. At the time, my feeling was that few people, including the media, were interested. I think people tended to think of it as "a place far away from Japan, where conflicts and clashes are always happening." So, I was troubled because I felt that simply telling people about the current situation was not enough. How could I make people feel as if it were happening right around the corner, as if it were happening to their beloved family members and close friends?

So I turned to the diary of a local staff member who was sending us e-mails every day. He was working in Gaza as an NGO staff, and his diary was very personal. He wrote very little about his work, but described daily life in the area, such as watching his son study by candlelight during a power outage under an airstrike. I decided to start uploading this diary to the website of our Japanese organization. In a way, it took a lot of courage. He continues to write his diary under the bombing. It is possible that tomorrow this diary will cease to exist. Do we have to face that moment... But the diary he sends us every day is the cry of his heart. We cannot let this go unheard.... With this in mind, I have taken the plunge and continued to upload the diary.

Then, one day, it caught the attention of the media and was featured as news on the top page of Yahoo Japan. In no time at all, the number of accesses to our organization's website increased dramatically. It was a moment when we realized that people were interested in a topic that until then had tended to be thought of as "something that happens all the time in a distant country." Like blogs, diaries are very personal. He wrote his diary not as an NGO worker, but as a father with a loving family. As a father, he felt helpless to do anything but hug his son, who was terrified by the bombing and unable to relieve his anxiety. As a parent, he felt helpless and unable to promise to protect his child. His stories must have reached the hearts of many people, and they accepted it as something that had happened to their own family members and those close to them.

It has been almost 10 years since then, and things have taken an unexpectedly bad turn. No matter how vividly the devastation in the area is reported, we stare at the news with a helpless feeling that we cannot even help a single person. Then, on yesterday morning's news, Akihiro Seita, who has been involved in supporting children in the Gaza Strip as a UN official for many years, introduced the story of a young Palestinian man. He aspires to be a painter and, if he survives, plans to graduate from college this year. He recently lost his best friend, who also loved to paint, in a bombing. Although he himself survived, he lost all his artworks he had ever worked on, and also painting tools, and not only can he not think about the future, but he does not even know if he will be alive tomorrow. Mr. Seita was stumped for words, saying, "There are many children in Gaza who are working hard for their future, but it is very sad that they have lost their dreams because of this war and don't know what will happen to them." What the young man, who says he really does not know if he will be alive tomorrow, wants is for people to know the current situation in Gaza.　

I hope it will no longer be the case that unless there are so many victims, the world won't pay attention to Gaza, which is also known as a "prison without a ceiling," and it won't make it into the news. First of all, each of us should continue to take a conscious interest. I myself took a picture of the sky I looked up at so that I would not forget my thoughts today.

・I have written about the war in my previous blog, " Hidden in a very ordinary landscape," in which I discuss the situation in Okinawa. I would be happy if you could read it as well.

Small Flowers

This photo appears to be a scene from an ordinary, peaceful summer day. In fact, it is, but there is a history that is not visible in this p

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On a quiet summer morning at the beach…

In the early hours of a summer morning, I could see the deserted beach from my car window. I stopped the car and went down to the beach. There were only two people, a mother and her daughter, playing in the sand. The scene was so beautiful that I couldn't help but snap the shutter from afar.

My hometown is also in a prefecture facing the sea, and the ocean has been relatively close to me since childhood. When I was in junior high school, the ocean was about a 10-minute walk from my school, and my P.E. teacher would say, "All right, let's run to the ocean today!" and everyone got very excited. However, the beach was popular with tourists and was always full of people. During the class, after running to the beach, we would pick up trash along the shore.

I often visited the ocean with my family, but the ocean was always a set together with the "events" and crowds of tide-pickers and swimmers. My image of the ocean was a place with many people. Even if I tried to find a beach where there were no people at all, it was so difficult to find one in my area.

In the prefecture where I live now, there is a lot of unspoiled nature on the coast. It is easy to find a beach with few or no people at all. On the way driving north on the national highway along the coast, you can find an empty beach anywhere and stop by.

Early in the morning, a time when just a mother and her daughter play in the sand and talk quietly to each other. It's something I never got to experience. I walked away quietly, not approaching so as not to disturb their precious time, overlaying the image of my mother, who passed away two years ago, in her younger days, and wondering how we would have spent together if she and I had been there...

Ajigaura Beach (Ibaraki, JAPAN)

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The place "Tokyo" for me now　

The photo above looks like an image taken from a website, but it was actually taken by me from a bus window on my way to Tokyo. A woman is riding her bicycle briskly through the streets near Tokyo Station on her way to her workplace. Just the sight of her gave me a feeling of power in my body, and I felt like, "Okay, I'm going to do my best in Tokyo today, too. "

I remember what a person who moved from Tokyo to a rural area said. "Now I enjoy going to Tokyo to have fun". This didn't really ring true for me, as I was living in Tokyo at the time. Certainly, I liked Tokyo because it is stimulating, and there are many different places with different tastes gathered in the small area, and I never got bored. However, the frequent encounters with crowded trains and crowded stores and streets made me fed up and wanted to run away somewhere far away. When I was working day and night in Tokyo, I would take a half-day off every two months or so to go to Japanese gardens in Tokyo and take a good "breath".

Then, by chance, I had to leave the Tokyo metropolitan area, and now I live in a place where there is a lake within walking distance. It is a two-hour bus ride to Tokyo. The scenery changes in this order: river, trees, skyscrapers. When the skyscrapers come into view, I feel that I am getting closer to Tokyo, and my body turns on. The photo above is exactly what Tokyo looks like to me now. Tokyo is a place where I can be positive, lively, and active.

On the way back, the scenery changes in the opposite order: skyscrapers, trees, and the river. When I see the setting sun over the Tone River, my body switches off. The skyscrapers and the sunset over the river. Lately, I have been thinking how luxurious it is to be able to see completely different views in a single day. When you move to a different place, you can see the goodness and different aspects of the place where you used to be. Even if I go to Tokyo for work, it is a fun thing for me to do now. It is just as exciting as "I enjoy going to Tokyo to have fun".

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Staring at the candlelight...pray for Morocco

A candlestick with a green light. It is one of my favorites among several candlesticks I have. I bought it a long time ago at a Moroccan goods store in Tokyo, and the melted wax has stuck to it and made it dirty. It has a picture of camels on the bottom. In winter, I tend to light candles more often, and this one is always a favorite.

When I was in elementary school, two of my friends and I kept a kind of diary in which we exchanged stories: one of us would write a story in a notebook and hand it to the next person in charge, who would write the rest of the story and hand it to the third person. In this way, we enjoyed creating a single story. I don't remember exactly why we did it, but I was always excited by the original content that one of my friends would write. The story would spin out in a direction I had never thought of. I looked forward to opening the notebook to see what the story would be like when I finished writing it, passed it on to a friend, and came back to me.

While I was doing this, inspired by the creative friend, I once wrote another story, just by myself. The title of that story was "Night Train in Morocco. " I don't remember why I chose that title or what the content was, but I am certain that from that time on, I liked the sound of "Morocco" and had a longing for a distant country I had never been to.

When I used to suffer from dry skin, argan oil cosmetics helped me. It was around this time that I began to develop an interest in organic cosmetics and other products that were not tested on animals. I felt good about using natural products, even if they were a bit expensive. I was soothed by a picture of an argan tree from which argan oil is extracted, which appeared in the instruction manual. It was only recently that I learned that the argan oil was from Morocco. I used to have a Moroccan tagine pot that I bought in Japan, and the pointy lid reminded me of the onion-shaped roofs found in Islamic architecture, so I intentionally placed it where it could be seen and enjoyed it as an interior decoration.

In Morocco, a country that I had longed to visit and that I had never been to, many people died in the earthquake, and even at this very moment, as I write this, there are many people who are in difficult situations, both physically and mentally. The world is somehow connected to me, even a country I thought were far away. As I stare at the green light of the beautiful candle, I would like to send my heartfelt thoughts to the country and people who have given me time to heal.

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In search of coolness... (2)

When one hears the word "cool" in summer, mountain streams and waterfalls come to mind. The waterfall I recently visited is secretly gaining popularity because visitors can go behind the cascading waterfall. From the front, you can see the waterfall flowing down in two separate streams. The two waterfalls flow in different ways, creating a beautiful sight. The back side of the waterfall, or the cave-like space in the back, appears to be a mysterious place that should not be entered (in fact, it is possible to enter and see the back side of the waterfall from there...). When the water volume increases, in addition to these two waterfalls, a child waterfall appears, and it is considered a place to pray for safe delivery, child rearing, and good luck, and the Kannon (Goddess of Mercy) is enshrined within the womb. It is possible to enter the inner space without getting wet from the waterfall, and watching the water splashing down from behind the waterfall is somehow reassuring, perhaps because of the nature of this waterfall.

About a 20-minute drive from this waterfall is one of the three most famous waterfalls in Japan. It is 73 meters wide and falls in four stages from a height of 120 meters, hence its other name, "Four times waterfall." The name is said to have come from the praise of Saigyo, a Buddhist priest who visited the area, who said, "You must come here once in each of the four seasons to experience the true beauty of the place." The waterfall offers different atmospheres in spring, summer, fall, and winter.

Of course, the area near the waterfall is a cool place to be, but the interesting thing about this waterfall is the artificially maintained approach. Upon entering the entrance, there is a tunnel. When I visited in summer, it was lit up in blue, and the cool air was very pleasant and enjoyable to walk through. It is a spot where you can already feel the "coolness" of the air. There is a hole on the right side of the tunnel that leads to the viewing platform, and the view of the waterfall from this hole is also nice.

From the first viewing platform, you can see the wide expanse of the waterfall cascading down in front of you, which is truly breathtaking. There is a suspension bridge from which you can enjoy the waterfall from different angles. If you take the elevator to the second viewing platform, you can get a panoramic view of the waterfall from outside. The waterfall is said to show various heart shapes depending on the change in water volume.

After visiting the waterfall, I stopped by a café, an old private house with a stylish retro atmosphere. I ordered juice made from Okukuji apples, a specialty of the area. It was well chilled, refreshingly sweet, and very tasty, and was truly a luxurious way to feel cool.

(In the order of the text above) Tsukimachi Falls, Fukuroda Falls, daigo cafe (Ibaraki, JAPAN) The photo (above) is a view of Tsukimachi Falls from the front. The photo (bottom) is a view from the back.

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In search of coolness... (1)

When I think of "cool," the limestone caves I have visited before come to mind. At Akiyoshido Cave, one of the largest caves in Japan, visitors can explore a 1-kilometer sightseeing route in a year-round temperature of about 17 degrees Celsius. It is just so large and the sheer scale of the place is overwhelming. While it is nice to see limestone caves illuminated in blue or green, here they are usually lit only in white. However, the contrast with the darkness is more striking and gives a sense of depth, conveying the mystery and power of nature in a simple and direct way. If you visit Akiyoshido Cave, you should also stop by Akiyoshidai, one of the largest karst plateaus in Japan. The 8-kilometer-long karst road is ideal for a drive. As you drive through the wide grassy plains, you may wonder for a moment if you are in Japan. There is also an observatory where you can enjoy the panoramic view and the heat will blow away.

Oya Museum in Tochigi Prefecture was recently featured on TV as a popular destination for those seeking coolness. Ruins of mining site of Oya stone is an underground space created by digging out Oya stone, and even on days when the temperature is over 30 degrees Celsius, the temperature inside the mine is only about 12 degrees Celsius, which is just enough to require a jacket. The illuminated space is fantastic and never boring to look at, sometimes described as a huge temple, but there is also a space illuminated by faint light coming in from outside, which is also very nice. There is also a café with a select store where visitors can enjoy goods made of Oya stone, and I purchased a candlestick made of Oya stone.

Along with the museum, I recommend visiting Matsugamine Catholic Church, which suddenly appeares about a five-minute walk from Utsunomiya Station. Built of Oya stone in the modern Romanesque style, it is a registered tangible cultural property. The interior of the church is beautiful, but I especially like its exterior. The front staircase leading to the entrance of the church, which can be approached from either side, and the twin towers, which are rare in Japan, are beautiful in form. You will feel as if you were strolling along a medieval European alley in the vicinity of Utsunomiya Station. If you stop by here after visiting Oya Museum, you will be able to experience the charm of Oya stone, which has a different atmosphere from that of the underground mining site. Tours of the church grounds and interior are also available, and it can be said that you can feel the "coolness" of the soul here.

Akiyoshido Cave, Akiyoshidai (Yamaguchi, JAPAN)/Oya Museum, Matsugamine Catholic Church (Tochigi, JAPAN)

The photo shows Akiyoshido Cave.

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What is there now, as a matter of course

I looked up at the sky early in the morning and found last night's super blue moon in the western sky. Of course I like to see the moon at night, but in the morning, seeing it still there is also very nice.

When I was a child, I loved a picture book called "Wait Till the Full Moon Comes". More than the story itself, I loved the illustration on the last page, which depicted animals having a good time under a big full moon. It was a picture book that I could look at for a long time and did not let go of for a while even after I became an adult. Also, on the night of the full moon, I would shine the moonlight on my moonstone necklace and wear it as a talisman on my solo trips.

It has become a habit for me to look at the moon so much that I can tell the difference between the full moon and the moon on the day before the full moon with the naked eye. At night, the moon rises, and in the morning, the sun rises. We spend our days as if this were a matter of course, but there are places in the world where the sun does not set at night or does not rise in the morning. Or, if, instead of being a natural phenomenon, war breaks out one day and we are forced to live in bomb shelters, there will be no sun and no moon. Whether the sun rises or the moon rises would no longer matter....

What we are now able to enjoy as a matter of course, what is there as a matter of course. I thought this morning that I would like to carefully face such things, even though we are often busy in our daily lives.

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The Man Climbing the Wall

This picture shows "The Man Climbing the Wall," a work displayed outdoors at an art museum that I visited long ago. Just by looking at it, some of you must have guessed which museum I am talking about. It is such a representative work of this museum.

This is just my impression, but it is very impactful and somewhat humorous. It is interesting to look at this work from various angles, 360 degrees. Standing or squatting in front of the face, the protruding upper body is very powerful, and it looks as if it is trying to climb over a large wall. However, when viewed from the side, the wall seems surprisingly thin. When you consider the expression on the man's face, you seem to hear him muttering, "This wall is relatively thin. I might get over this wall easily." (This is just my personal feeling.)

This museum is located halfway up a mountain that connects to Mt. Fuji, and is located on a hill full of greenery, a long bus ride up from the nearest station. It is very nice to visit during the beautiful season of fresh greenery on a clear day. Once you pass through the lush green entrance and enter the museum, you will be overwhelmed by the eccentricity, strangeness, and powerful impact of the works exhibited on the open hilltop. One of them is "The Man Climbing the Wall." Looking down from the top of the open hill, you can see several more works displayed in a beautiful European-like garden.

The hill is connected to the exhibition building, and the route is as follows: open hill (upper garden), enter the exhibition building, go down the stairs to the lower level, and then go to the European-style garden (lower garden).

The inside of the exhibition building is also nice. Not many people are there. In this space, there are many works that have a mysterious impact. It is a quiet, dark space with a somewhat cold atmosphere, but many of the works are of human figures, and standing in front of them, you feel a sense of warmth. At the moment you enter the museum, you do not feel that there are many works, and you have a somewhat unsatisfactory impression, but you feel that there are interesting tricks scattered throughout the museum, such as "The Man Climbing the Wall," and you become absorbed in them. If you go around each work or look at them from various angles, such as squatting down and looking up, you will realize that it takes a considerable amount of time.

Walking out from the exhibition building, you come to a garden with beautiful clematis and other flowers. There are several works of art on display, and here visitors can enjoy not only the sculptures, but also the greenery and flowers together.

This museum is not a large-scale museum like those in the city center or major cities. However, that is why it is possible to calmly and quietly face and interact with the works of art alone. When I visited this museum for the first time, I was under a lot of stress from work. However, I did not come here to relieve stress; I just happened to live near the nearest station at the time and was somewhat interested in visiting. From the moment I actually arrived and saw the works, I forgot not about my work, or even who I was, and became like air, absorbed in the world of the works. By the time I left the museum, my head and heart were as clear as the sky seen from the top of this hill. Like that "The Man Climbing the Wall," I may have been able to overcome the wall surprisingly easily.

Clematis Hill, Vangi Sculpture Garden Museum (Shizuoka, JAPAN)

*The museum is currently closed for repairs to the facilities. Twenty years after its opening, the museum needed to repair its outdoor exhibits and facilities, but its continued existence was threatened by the decline in the number of visitors due to the Corona disaster. The crowdfunding campaign that was implemented in response to this situation has attracted many fans who love this museum so much that donations far exceeded the target amount in a short period of time. In the video below, you can get a full sense of the museum's charm before it was closed. Please visit the museum when it opens again.

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A bundle of small happiness

One day, I got on a crowded train as if I was being pushed from behind. As the train departed and I breathed a sigh of relief, a man was folding origami cranes at the window of the box seat in front of me. The train was rocking and there was no table to hold the paper cranes in place, but he deftly folded them at great speed. Moreover, he connected the origami cranes one by one to make a beautiful shape. The stress and fatigue of being on a crowded train were blown away as I watched his masterful handiwork. There must be someone waiting to receive this. He must be on his way there now and is in a hurry to keep folding.

As I was thinking this, the train arrived at the next station. Many people were getting off. And the man, too. "Oh, he is getting off here. I will not be able to see that paper crane show anymore," I thought. Then, the man got off the train, leaving the paper cranes on the window seat. What!? I almost called out to him, "You forgot this," but he clearly had not forgotten it, and left it behind as he got off the train. The box seat in front of me was empty, so my husband and I sat down facing each other in that window seat. We both took the time to admire the paper cranes placed by the window and enjoyed the moment. Perhaps he continued to fold paper cranes simply as a hobby, not to give them to anyone.... Maybe he was enjoying the act of folding itself....

The station we were getting off at was approaching. I really wanted to take the paper cranes home and display them. But then I thought. The man must have left this here so that those who sat behind him could enjoy their time on the train in this way. If that is the case, why can we take this with us? Let's leave it here for those who will sit here again later, we thought.

I don't know what happened to those origami cranes now, but they must have entertained the people who sat there again. And if no one took it home and left it there, the last person to see it would be a driver or station attendant checking the passengers off the train at the last station. Those folded paper cranes must have soothed their fatigue from the stressful work. And if the driver or other station staff had left it as it was, it would have enriched the hearts of those who boarded the train at the first station and saw this folded paper cranes. In this way, small happiness would continue....

This song by Johnny Hates Jazz, a favorite of mine, is perfect when I think about this.

(288) Johnny Hates Jazz - Spirit Of Love (Official Video) - YouTube

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"middle of nowhere"

When I moved here two years ago from the metropolitan area, a woman in a shop said to me. "How dare you came all the way to the middle of nowhere?" I think she said it as a welcome which means "Welcome, although there's nothing to see here," but I felt a little sorry for the "middle of nowhere" that people said to me like that.

Certainly, there are many famous popular cities like Kyoto, but if you think about it, there are far more cities, towns, villages, etc. whose names you've never heard of, and you would say, "Where is that?" For some of them, you don't know how to read, or even for a town in the prefecture where you live, you may not know much about the location or what is there.

Having moved to one of those "middle of nowhere," I have a new hobby. Walking. The "nothingness" means that there are open landscapes nearby that you don't see in the city and that is an enjoyable factor for walking. And because I am able to see farther, my eyesight has improved. When I walk in such places, I discover many things. Even when walking along the same path, the "middle of nowhere" takes on a different look depending on the time of day and the season. When I take pictures of those looks, I notice something. Is this the "middle of nowhere"? There's a lot of stuff here!

There are people who live, study at school, or work, even though here is the "middle of nowhere." Every day at dusk, the houses are lit up, and the chimneys of the factories along the coast are constantly emitting white smoke. Windmills for offshore wind power generation are also spinning. When I see them on the way home from Tokyo on the highway, I feel at home. My favorite place is the place where I live now. I love the fact that even in such "middle of nowhere," there are people going about their daily lives.

I am sure that every place has its own beautiful scenery. Even in places that many people think are "empty," there should be always something there. If you didn't really like where you live now, why not take a little walk today and find it?

Kamisu City (Ibaraki, JAPAN)

Green Park behind City Hall, with a 4.4-km-long pond with more than 10 species of wild birds.

Wind Power Kamisu No. 1 offshore wind farm; Kamisu City is the site of Japan's first full-scale offshore wind farm. Visitors can enjoy the scenery on an empty beach.

Ikisu Shrine. Together with Kashima Jingu Shrine (Kashima City, Ibaraki Prefecture) and Katori Jingu Shrine (Katori City, Chiba Prefecture), they are called the three shrines of the East. Kashima Jingu Shrine and Katori Jingu Shrine are about a 20-minute drive from Ikisu Shrine. These three shrines share a common amulet, which is completed by purchasing a wooden amulet for the main body at one shrine and purchasing stickers of different colors from the other two shrines and affixing them to the main body (the sticker from the first shrine is already attached).

The scenery changes with the seasons. In winter, there is no greenery and the whole area looks like a desolate desert.

Nasaka Sunset Township Park, a sunset spot that even the locals rarely visit.

The scenery looks similar for a moment to a scene I encountered in England??

●For those of you who kindly have read this far and are interested in Kamisu City, Kamisu City's character, Kamisukoko-kun, at the link below shows you where Kamisu City is located in a very easy-to-understand way (His head is in the shape of Ibaraki Prefecture, and he is telling you that Kamisu City is here. "koko" of "Kamisukoko" means "here" in Japanese.). By the way, his favorite food seems to be nata de coco.

カミスココくんプロフィール / 茨城県神栖市 (city.kamisu.ibaraki.jp)

●A place that hardly anyone pays attention to is glistening in the sunlight. This music makes you feel even more enlivened when you walk in such places.

(278) "Say So" - Doja Cat - Cover (Violin) - YouTube

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There is a special inn that I would like to visit again after seeing the previous pictures. Located on a hill in the hot spring resort area, it is fully furnished with the warmth of wood. There is a bar where you can enjoy local sake, and a library lounge where you can read books and magazines while sipping coffee or tea. What sets this inn apart from its competitors, however, is its unique "yu-meguri," or "hot spring bath tour," which allows guests to enjoy the hot spring baths at this inn and its sister inn, located about a four-minute walk from this inn, and back again.

Of course, there is the enjoyment of the hot springs themselves, but this four-minute walk is also very nice. At dusk, you walk out of the inn on the hillside through a wooden corridor with beautiful lighting. Down the slope, paths extend. Is this the correct way? I think, so sparsely populated with tourists. In a little space on the corner, there were people with wooden chairs out to cool off. I could hear the sound of the mountain stream and summer insects. Walking along a narrow path between buildings in the hot spring resort town, I saw the sister inn beyond a bridge over the stream. It has the entrance with its beautiful arched form. It is a rare experience to be able to enjoy two inns while making a reservation at one inn. Highly recommended.

Aizu Higashiyama Onsen Kutsurogijuku (Fukushima, JAPAN)

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This photo appears to be a scene from an ordinary, peaceful summer day. In fact, it is, but there is a history that is not visible in this photo. The small brownish-roofed building on the far right is where the reception desk to enter "there" is located.

The "there" is an army hospital bunker where wounded soldiers were treated during the Battle of Okinawa. In the dark and narrow dugout, military doctors, nurses, and Himeyuri students (female students) treated the sick and wounded. Medical equipment and medicine were scarce, and surgeries without anesthesia and amputations of limbs were performed. Visitors can actually enter the dugout. You can also try turning off flashlights and experience how dark it really was.

Most memorable of all was the experience of being allowed to smell a recreation of the smell inside the bunker. Smells like nothing I have ever smelled before. It was a mixture of the smells of sweat, blood, and urine of the people inside. It was damp and unsanitary, and the mere thought of this smell filling the small bunker made my head hurt. As I closed my eyes and smelled the odor, I felt as if I could visualize the scene inside the bunker. Thinking of the harsh conditions made my heart ache and I felt as if I would not be able to breathe.

When I emerged from the pitch-dark bunker, the afternoon sun was shining down on me. Three children were playing, although the photo only shows a bit of green and red clothing. Just where the clothes are visible, a monument has been erected. The inscription reads as follows: The requiem. If you put your forehead to the ground and worship, it will be like the day I buried my comrades in arms, and I will smell the scent of the earth on the hill at dawn. Soldiers who had lost both legs crawled through the mud looking for a hospital.

As I walked up the hill, accompanied by the children's laughter, I looked back again and again, hoping that the peace of today would not be lost forever, and that the suffering of those who died would not be forgotten.

On the way back, I passed by the "Meshiage no Michi". They cooked at the cookhouse at the foot of the hill, and when the rice was cooked, they walked this path, carrying it to the top of the hill under the danger of shelling. Some Himeyuri students lost their lives here. "It must have been really tough, and you did a great job." Recalling a group photo of the Himeyuri students that looked similar to my own high school days, I left the place as if I were talking to close friends.

Okinawa Army Hospital, Haebaru Bunkers No. 20 (Okinawa, JAPAN)

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It is the only shrine I have visited three times, even though it is by no means close by. The common route to get there is to take a bus from the station, which takes over an hour. The third time, however, I visited on foot along Omotesando. The "Omotesando" of the shrine... Here, many may imagine a flat, pleasant path to stroll along which leads to the shrine. However, this shrine is located at an altitude of 1100 meters, and the Omotesando is a 3.7-kilometer trail. This is the path that worshippers used to walk until the roadway was built.

I visited in late autumn. At first, I enjoyed the scenery of trees and a waterfall as I walked along. However, from the middle of the trail, it gradually became steeper and steeper. Not many people take the trail to begin with, but as I walked slowly, more and more people passed me, and soon I was all alone. When my footsteps stop, I can no longer hear the sound of stepping on fallen leaves, and silence envelops me. Fear comes over me, for this is a place where bears are said to roam.

The path is covered with so many fallen leaves that if you only look at your feet, you will not know which direction you should go. So, I would look up from time to time to check the direction I should go a few meters ahead before continuing on my way. I hear the sound of trees rustling in the wind, but when I look up at them, I cannot even see the shadow of the building of the shrine that is my goal. It was as if they were telling me, "You still have a lot of training to do. " I had read somewhere that one should not go to this shrine with a weak mind. This time, more than usual, I felt as if my spirit was being tested.

Finally, I heard human voices above me. I could see the Okumiya Yohaiden, my favorite part of the shrine. Coming by bus and going to the main shrine first, this place is somewhat far in the back. However, coming from the trail, the exit led here. This place is to worship the rear  shrine on the rocky peak in front of the place, but when I come here, it is always shrouded in fog and I cannot see anything. But when I look into the distance through the fog, I feel as if my whole body is filled with a power that I cannot describe. It is a place where I would like to stay forever, even if I cannot see anything because of the fog.

Mitsumine Shrine (Saitama, JAPAN)

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After parking my car in the parking lot and walking down a pitch-black road for a while, a small "town" suddenly appears, enveloped in dazzling lights. Inns, cafes or bars line both banks of the narrow river, with orange lights flooding in from the many windows. The buildings are old and western-style, but the place is filled with a nostalgic and modern atmosphere.

The two banks are connected by a few small bridges, allowing visitors to come and go as they please. In contrast to the light flooding in through the windows, the paths on the bridges and in front of the buildings are a bit dim, dotted with gas lamps and small lights that illuminate your feet, which is also very nice. As you walk down this path, you can see inside through the windows and hear the sounds of the clinking of dishes at mealtime, happy laughter, and even jazz music coming from the bar, along with the sound of a stream flowing through the river.

If you come in the daytime, the atmosphere is sure to be different. However, I would recommend nighttime. Especially at night in winter. The town, warmly illuminated in the cold, is an unreal space where you can be satisfied even if you do not stay at an inn but just stroll around.

Ginzan Onsen (Yamagata, JAPAN)