徒歩で日本縦断の旅 Walking Across Japan 67
under a rusty bridge I stay for the night
Under a rusty bridge, I stayed for the night. The rain tapped against the metal above, a hollow, uneven rhythm that filled the darkness. Cars passed somewhere in the distance, but down here, it felt like a separate world—dim, damp, and quiet. I set my tent on the cold ground, the smell of rust and wet earth lingering in the air. It wasn’t a place meant for rest, but it was enough. Nights like this remind me what this journey really is—not something beautiful all the time, but something real. And somehow, I continue.
