blue belt life

I found myself on the most deserted stretch of beach I know of in the world, near the southern tip of the island of Niijima. There wasn’t another person as far as the eye could see. The still air, the warm autumn sun, the coarse glass sand that coats the skin but brushes away just as easily, the gently lapping waves, the large rock protruding from the water a few hundred meters offshore – these were my companions for the afternoon. I reached a place where I thought I might take a rest. The beach rose up from the water and gradually steepened into a hill, and I wondered about camping…