The Further Away a Mountain Is, the Closer It Comes to the Heart

May 2026, in Ino Town
The Further Away a Mountain Is, the Closer It Comes to the Heart

At dusk on the UFO Line, also known as the Corridor of the Sky, Mount Kamegamori appeared before me. It was not just tall and beautiful; it possessed a mountain presence that seemed to quietly invite the human heart in.

Mount Kamegamori, showing its gentle Himi-Nisengoku-hara plain to the left.

Slightly below and to the right is Mount Komochigongen; it had a completely different expression when viewed from this side.

By having two peaks nestled together, the landscape holds a sense of narrative that transcends mere mountain photography.

The sky was clear, pale clouds flowed gently over the mountain, and the twilight light quietly accentuated the shadows on the mountain surface.

What I find most impressive is that the mountain's "two expressions" coexist within a single frame.

The area near the summit of Mount Kamegamori is wrapped in soft bamboo grass, opening up gently toward the sky.

It is gentle and generous, like a meadow that refuses no one.

Yet, beneath that, there are deeply carved valleys and sheer rock faces that do not hide the mountain's inherent severity.

Perhaps it is because it stands while embracing both gentleness and harshness that this mountain becomes more than just a "pretty mountain," but a presence that touches the human heart.

Mount Komochigongen, visible on the right, gives a slightly sharper, more taut impression compared to Mount Kamegamori.

When viewed from the Teragawa area, its form seemed to assimilate into the rugged rock face.

While contrasting, both are connected under the same sky, creating a single world of mountains.

A mountain is not beautiful in isolation; it reaches the heart as a single landscape that includes the neighboring peaks, the plunging valleys, the vastness of the sky, and the direction of the light.

It quietly teaches us that.

I love mountains, yet I am not good at climbing them.

I feel there is a very deep truth in that somewhere.

Loving a mountain and conquering a mountain must surely be different things.

There are mountains that make your heart tremble just by looking up at them from afar.

There are days when you are encouraged by their ridgelines, even without climbing them.

And Mount Kamegamori seems to be the representative of such "mountains you can love just by looking up at."

That is why the thought, "I heard it's easy to climb, so I want to climb it at least once while I'm still healthy," feels like a natural, earnest, and somehow warm wish.

This sunset scene lacks the intensity that incites a challenge.

Rather, there is a calmness, as if the mountain itself is gently calling out, "There's no need to rush, but come visit sometime."

The bamboo grass spreading across the summit looks soft even from a distance, making me imagine that if I were to stand in that place, I would surely feel the sky close by and be wrapped in the wind.

Perhaps the great charm of Mount Kamegamori is that it appears open not just to those who are good at climbing, but to everyone who longs for the mountains.

Mount Kamegamori, as I looked up at it from the Teragawa area that day, was a mountain I had not yet climbed, yet it felt like a place I had already visited many times in my heart.

Sometimes, before a person climbs with their feet, their heart climbs the mountain first.

What is captured in a photograph is not just scenery.

It is also a quiet premonition of a summit where one might stand someday.

That is why I believe this single shot is not just a record, but one that cherishes and holds onto the feeling of "someday."

If I were to give this landscape a title, it would be "Mountaineering That Begins with Looking Up."

Mount Kamegamori and Mount Komochigongen, seen at dusk on the UFO Line, were mountains that encouraged and gave dreams to people even before they climbed them.

I love them but I'm not good at it; I'm not good at it but I'm drawn to them.

The mountain surely does not deny even such wavering feelings.

While simply existing there, it quietly waits for that day to come.