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One day at a forest park with a sunny blue sky and scattered clouds.

Some jogging, some walking with their dogs, some picnicking, children playing happily, and crows calling in the background.

This was my first time fishing at sea—I only ever fished in ponds or rivers before. And it had been a long time since I last went fishing too.

So much fun and so much sun (hot)!

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These places aren’t landmarks—not even spots people would photograph. But these are places I visit 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 while realizing 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.

This is Eiger, Mönch, and Jungfrau. I took this shot at Birg right after lunch at Piz Gloria—the 360-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 what I found more interesting was the lore behind them.

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.

Funny that I only knew Eiger as an outdoor gear brand in my country—until 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 at a pottery workshop in Tokoname, Aichi. The place was chaotic—scraps and random stuff everywhere—but this old signboard caught my eye. I found it stood out against the mess around it.

Come to think of it… something like this might happen quite often—a small thing catching the eye, the way that signboard did. But it’s very subjective. Like… what stands out to me might mean nothing to anyone else—and vice versa. Even what stands out to me, I might still miss it—could be because I’m moving quickly, my mind is elsewhere, or something like that.

If I slow down a little—giving myself a moment to be present—I might see things I usually miss. But of course, it’s not a guarantee—just a chance.

Perhaps that’s what noticing is—being present, unhurried, and open.