We move slowly out of the wide green bay. The groups of women grow smaller in the distance. The country of round umbrellas with a thousand ribs fades gradually from our sight.
Now the vast ocean opens before us, immense, colorless, solitary; a solemn repose after so much that is too ingenious and too small.
The wooded mountains, the flowery capes disappear. And Japan remains faithful to itself, with its picturesque rocks, its quaint islands on which the trees tastefully arrange themselves in groups — studied, perhaps, but charmingly pretty.
Last updated Sunday, March 27, 2016 at 11:57