It was a stunning hairpin curve.
There were a few Japanese silver grass blooming in the foreground.
The clear white sky with the ocean in the distance.
My heart was at peace.
I got out of the car with my camera.
There I stared at the mountains, the sky, and the sea in the distance.
Everything was wonderful. Everything.
I am remembering what happened that afternoon.
Here is a sentence I almost wrote before, but never got around to it.
I was once again recalling my first trip to Unzen.
I remember when I took the trail before sunset.
I came to an observatory from which I could see the old town and the Unzen Hell.
I was walking and shuttering, walking and shuttering.
I thought. My life is here.
I was out somewhere in Shimabara, taking as many pictures as I wanted, wherever I wanted.
I would wander around and pass the time at my leisure.
I would stroll through the samurai residences at my leisure.
I would reminisce about my trip alone at my leisure.
I was taking pictures while holding an umbrella.
I remember that.
When I arrived in Shimabara, I first went to Shimabara Castle.
I climbed the stairs of the castle tower up to the 5th floor to the observation deck, where I took pictures.
I am looking out over the Ariake Sea.
I am taking pictures of that sea, a wonderfully beautiful sea.
But what was I thinking at that moment?
I wondered if I could see China in the far distance.
I walked around Dejima, which was tinged with winter dusk.
A samurai dressed in light clothing stood in the street.
I unhesitatingly clicked the shutter for the Western-style building in the darkness of the night.
The more pictures you take, the richer your life will be.
Isn’t that right?
Come on, folks.
Let me show you where the Dutch lived in the past.
You have to see this Western-style house.
If I don’t like my current residence, I’m thinking of copying the interior design of this place.
I went to school for six months to study Chinese in case I might need to use it someday.
One day I could go to China and say “See you next time！” to Mao Zedong in Tiananmen Square.
My visit was not to Osaka, but to Oranda-zaka.
If you had met me there, I’m sure you would have been fascinated by me.
It was as much fun as a Friday night.
It was as if I was living in a foreign city.
Thirty-seven Japanese people visited Confucius Shrine. I was one of them. I took a lot of pictures.
I took pictures because I wanted to remember the masked Chinese better. I want to talk about the masked Chinese at work and do a slideshow on my blog.
I was an East Asian language and culture enthusiast, and a passionate photographer.（I had taken a whopping 40 photos here.）
There was a nice little dragon sculpture on the roof.
Ah, just like China!
Near the end of the evening, I looked around the Nagasaki Traditional Performing Arts Museum, peering at the individual exhibits.
I learned how the Japanese around 1600 used dragons and sailing ships to hold gorgeous festivals.
The Japanese of the Edo period was brilliant.
But putting cushions on the boat is not good.
It would get wet.
I want to write something like a dragon-like Chinese ship.