Lake Shikotsu. As I wandered closer to the lake, I noticed how the lush greenery wrapped itself protectively around the shoreline like a soft, natural embrace. The vegetation was mostly a vibrant green, alive and thriving, swaying gently with the passing breeze. It was as if nature had taken special care to decorate the lake’s edges, creating a soothing contrast between the still, clear waters and the gently rustling leaves. Here, the air was thick with the scent of damp earth, fresh leaves, and distant blossoms.
Among the trees, I spotted several fruit-bearing ones. To my delight, a small grove of banana trees stood nearby, their large, waxy leaves casting gentle shadows on the ground below. Some of the trees even had clusters of ripening bananas, hanging like golden lanterns from tall, curved stems. The sight of fruit trees around the lake gave the place a tropical charm—one that felt rare and delicate, especially paired with the coolness of the water and the misty horizon. Towering behind the lake was a grand mountain, dark and mighty, as if it had risen straight from the sea. Its base seemed to dip into the waters, while its peak disappeared into passing clouds. There was something almost mythical about it. It felt like a mountain born from ancient legends, a silent protector of the lake and its surroundings. The way it stood so close to the shoreline gave the landscape an epic, almost cinematic quality—as though I had stepped into a scene from a storybook where nature takes center stage.
This place was made for wandering souls—for those seeking both peace and quiet inspiration. The temperature was perfectly pleasant—warm enough to enjoy the sun without discomfort, and cool enough to walk for hours without fatigue. The soft breeze that carried the sounds of birdsong and rustling leaves added a layer of serenity to the experience. Dotted along the lakeside path were several small Japanese restaurants—each unique, yet all radiating a quiet warmth. Some were simple wooden structures with paper lanterns hanging at the entrance, while others had tiny gardens filled with bonsai, stones, and flowing water. The menus offered local delicacies: freshly grilled fish wrapped in banana leaves, steaming miso soup, rice with pickled vegetables, and delicate sweets made with seasonal fruit. One restaurant had an outdoor seating area where guests could dine while looking out across the water, their meals accompanied by the gentle lapping of waves and the occasional rustle of the banana trees.
I took a seat at one of these places and ordered a simple but unforgettable lunch. As I ate, I looked around and took it all in—the colors, the textures, the sounds, and the incredible sense of stillness. This wasn’t just a travel destination. It was a place where time softened, where the body relaxed, and the heart felt full.
If you’re looking for a hidden gem in nature, where green surrounds you, fruit trees feed both the body and the soul, and a majestic mountain rises beside a peaceful lake, this place is waiting—quiet, welcoming, and breathtaking in its simplicity.
