Sea Change

I suppose it's quite odd if one thinks about it: I'm living on an archipelago, in a town that sits on the sea, yet I hadn't seen the ocean yet. I had actually been out on my bike a number of times before with the intent of finding the beach but had only returned home disappointed and somewhat confused as to how the largest thing on planet earth could be so elusive. Since looking at an aerial photo of Momoishi, I had actually resolved to set out and find the damn thing once and for all. Unfortunately, I haven't had much in the way of time as of late; a problem that's compounded by the fact that the encroaching winter and Japan's refusal to use daylight savings time have conspired against me to usurp the day before I've even left work. That's right, it's already pitch black by 5:00 pm and it's only October.

But alas, I digress. I did actually make it out to the sea at long last but not in the fashion that I had initially envisioned. On Sunday, before leaving Shimokita, we headed up to 仏ケ浦, known as the "Buddah Rocks" in English. They came highly recommended by one of my office ladies although I really couldn't see the appeal based on how she described them to me ("some rocks close to the sea"). Anyway, I couldn't have been more wrong in my assessment. This was not only the most majestic locale I have visited yet in Japan, it is quite possibly one of the most idyllic areas I have ever seen in my life. The sun was shining, the water was a perfectly translucent blue-green-it almost seemed too perfect to be real. Of course, my simply talking about it won't make it any more real for you; on paper it's just a bunch of pointy rocks by the sea that are said to somehow resemble Buddah. So hopefully, the following photographs will help carry the burden of proof for my seemingly hyperbolic statements.