晴れた日の森林公園。青い空に、雲が少し。
ジョギングをする人。犬と散歩する人。ピクニックをする人。楽しそうに遊ぶ子どもたち。そして、遠くでカラスが鳴いていました。
晴れた日の森林公園。青い空に、雲が少し。
ジョギングをする人。犬と散歩する人。ピクニックをする人。楽しそうに遊ぶ子どもたち。そして、遠くでカラスが鳴いていました。

海で釣りをするのは、初めてでした。前に釣りをした場所は、池や川だけです。釣りをするのも久しぶりでした。
とても楽しかったです。そして、とてもいい天気でした(暑い!)。





These places aren’t landmarks—not even spots people would photograph. But I visit them every time I’m in Yokohama. I discovered them through two beautiful songs I heard in middle school—songs with music videos set in these exact places.
I remember the first time I visited—I put on my headphones, played both songs, and just stood there for some time—lost in nostalgia until the songs ended. Then I realized I was standing in beautiful places because of those songs—places I once only knew from a screen. I don’t have a word for what this is. People might call it manifestation—something I don’t believe in. Whatever it is… it is—at least to me—sentimental!
Now, every time I visit, even without playing the songs, I still find myself standing there and letting the memories find their way back.
It’s always sentimental Yamatecho.

These are Eiger, Mönch, and Jungfrau. I took this shot at Birg right after lunch at Piz Gloria—the rotating restaurant on Schilthorn. I’m grateful to see them in person—though the scene itself didn’t really impress me—or perhaps it was the angle from where I stood. Funny that I found the lore behind them more interesting.
In German, Eiger means ogre, Mönch means monk, and Jungfrau means maiden. The monk stands between the ogre and the maiden to protect her. That’s how they’re positioned geographically—Mönch right between Eiger and Jungfrau.
I only knew Eiger as an outdoor gear brand in my country. Then, the day before I took this shot, I was playing mini golf with friends in Grindelwald and found out the mountain behind the course was Eiger.

I took this shot a few years ago while walking around a pottery workshop in Tokoname, Aichi. The place was chaotic—scraps and random stuff everywhere—but this old signboard caught my eye. It stood out against the mess around it.
On reflection… Something that stands out and catches my eye like this might be often around me—even right in front of me. But I somehow miss it. Perhaps because I’m moving quickly, my mind is elsewhere, or something like that.
What if I slow down a little—giving myself a moment to be present, unhurried, and open? Could I notice the things I usually miss—and notice things like this more often?