You are protected by the bittersweet pith

The scent is a little understated this week. There is a slightly damp citrus fragrance in the air. It is a mid-June emotional forecast, dyed in a yellowish orange. It is, quite literally, yellowish-orange.

Right now, there is a small Hyuganatsu citrus on the table, where the dark brown finish has started to peel away. It is a citrus fruit of this season.
It is very well chilled. I use a knife to thinly peel away only the yellow outer skin. This reveals a spongy, white pith.
When I slice through it with a knife, the juicy fruit is revealed.

There is a flavor that is only complete when you eat this orange fruit together with the slightly bitter white pith.

The texture of that fluffy, somewhat moist white skin inside the peel. It is reminiscent of the damp air of the rainy season, the white mist wrapping around the mountains, and the clouds themselves, heavy with rain.

Beyond that, there is the summer sun. But it has not yet fully revealed itself.
For now, it is still the season of rain.

It is humid, and going out feels a bit of a chore.
And yet, somewhere in your heart,
“I want to hear someone’s voice”
“I feel a bit lonely”
Don’t you find yourself having these contradictory feelings? The “stay at home” signal your body sends, and the “desire for connection” your heart craves.
This inconsistent swaying of the heart is like a rather interesting “heart bug” this week.

The yellowish-orange of this week teaches us a quiet, unobtrusive way to connect.

For example, in a quiet room wrapped in the sound of rain, try sending a casual message to someone who just popped into your mind. Or, find yourself drawn to music you usually let pass by. Even without going to a bustling place, there are things that can be conveyed quite clearly.

The strength to enjoy solitude.
The honesty to crave something.
These are by no means contradictory.
Just as raindrops gently blur the scenery, this week will be one where the distance between your heart and the hearts of others settles into the most comfortable place.

The summer solstice arrives this weekend.
The day with the longest daylight of the year.
It is a season where, because the light is so strong, the shadows within you also grow a little deeper.
And also, astronomically speaking, this day is the starting point from which “the days begin to get shorter.” The peak is always the beginning of the turn.

People in the past cherished this day.
They believed that the door between the world we live in and another world would open. From the other side, various things would flow into this world. Even some rather strange things.
In a sense, that is chaos, but thanks to it, there are things that become clearly visible.

Therefore, from this day forward, things that are truly important might suddenly come into sharp focus. Conversely, you might find yourself understanding things that didn't really matter. It is that kind of opportunity.
To put it another way, it feels like this.
Being yourself, and
meeting the expectations of those around you.
The two are playing a game of tug-of-war, shouting, “Heave-ho!”

So, it is quite exhausting.
When the outside world is shaking, your own inner world cannot remain quiet either. Even if you are at home, there is chaos and there is tug-of-war.
That is, in a way, like a ritual to welcome the full-blown summer ahead.
Therefore, there is no need to fear, but you must not take it lightly.

There is an important spell.
To take a break—.
It is simple, but surprisingly difficult.

The unique modesty and understated beauty that citrus fruits of this season possess.
The way they store plenty of moisture and wrap it up to protect the juiciness of the pulp.
That is the atmosphere of this week.

Botanically speaking, that white part is called albedo. A word that means “whiteness” in Latin.
That bittersweet white skin that protects the juicy, succulent pulp. Its ambiguous and delicate flavor is the emotional sky that is neither sunny nor rainy.

It is precisely because of that, that it is yellowish-orange.

-2026.5.14 -
by Seaside Walker