Shorter of Breath
Standing on the rocks, the sea repeats its ebb and flow, and the surrounding shoreline gradually sinks underwater.
I often came to this beach. From halfway up the hill, the sound of the sea seemed to rise, and the hazy sunset seemed to ease the feeling of breathlessness. Along the coast of Fukuoka, the natural scenery of sea, sand, and pine trees is scattered like pieces on a chessboard. These places are like isolated islands, divided by artificial structures.
As I visited these islands, where the afternoon sun reflected off the sea and made the water dazzling, I gradually became absorbed in the feeling of wandering along the coastline. I walked until sunset, but I could never reach the distant hills wrapped in depth.
People who live by the sea are probably happy, but for me the joy is in looking at nature. From ancient times to the present, the dunes of this land have retreated under the sea wind, and the traces of ancient people may have been swallowed by the sea. Thousands of years ago, was there someone like me wandering over similar rocks and gazing at the sea?
Standing on the rocks, the water does not recede. Only light wavering on the horizon remains.
站在岩石上，海水重复着涨落，周围的海岸线逐渐沉入水下。
我常常来到这片海滩。从半山腰开始，海的声音像是升了上来，朦胧的落日似乎缓解了喘不过气的感觉。沿着福冈的海岸，海、沙和松树组成的自然风景像棋盘上的棋子一样散落。这些地方如同孤岛，被人工结构切分开来。
在造访这些岛屿时，午后的阳光被海面反射，水变得耀眼。我渐渐沉浸在沿着海岸线游荡的感觉里。我一直走到日落，却始终无法抵达远处那些被纵深包裹的山丘。
住在海边的人大概是幸福的，但对我来说，快乐存在于观看自然之中。从古至今，这片土地的沙丘在海风中后退，古人的痕迹也许已经被海吞没。几千年前，是否也有人像我一样，在相似的岩石上徘徊，望向大海？
站在岩石上，水没有退去。只剩下地平线上摇晃的光。