みんなーさん、こんにちは！この話は英語でかきました！がんばって！
I hope you will enjoy my story.

I grew up in a small town in Eastern Connecticut, relatively close to the sea, perhaps a thirty-minute drive or so. Seaside trips were a regular part of my childhood, as well as vacations in Maine (at that time, my family had a house on an island in Maine.) Being on an island, you had to take a boat to get there, which my father usually maneuvered through the choppy sea. I was raised on seafood. Digging for clams on the beach was the best way to ensure the tastiest, freshest clam chowder (my mother preferred to make it with clear broth, instead of creamy, which I prefer to this day).

Not only were we close to the ocean, but we also had a landscape of gently rolling hills and trees, with a few small farms scattered here and there. However, the first time that I saw actual mountains was when I took a trip with my family to the White Mountains of New Hampshire. There, the landscape had impressive vistas, granite outcroppings, and ski resorts that were perfect in the summer for taking a cable car or gondola up amongst the trees and beyond.

My next encounter with mountains was many years later, when I moved close to Seoul, Korea. From the hallway of my fifteenth floor apartment, I could see ranges of mountains that appeared almost endless, so much more impressive than the rolling hills of where I grew up. Even in the concrete jungle, they had a striking beauty that stayed with me. On work trips, or on the bus, I could often be found gazing out of the window in fascination. It was always a novelty. It never grew old.

Travelling to Japan, the landscape was again different. I'm not sure if I can adequately express certain experiences, as so many things were new. So, I will share one particularly impressive experience. At the time, I was living in Japan (Kansai) and found myself with some time off. I chose to travel to Hida Takayama, because I picked it out of a guidebook (seemingly at random).
This involved a train journey to Nagoya, and then transferring to a disel train, something I'd never seen before in real life. To be honest, it scared me. I wondered why it was still in operation. It was loud too, a big metal beast that belched smelly black smoke. I wondered if it was really safe. I boarded the train, just me and my bag, feeling slightly anxious. As we travelled closer and closer to Hida Takayama, we seemed to leave civilization (or at least modern urban life) behind. Mountains, bigger and more impressive, appeared. Cows and farms dotted the landscape. Winding rivers of crystal clear water splashed impressively down smooth mountain rocks like mini-waterfalls. I felt peaceful, but with the anticipation of going somewhere unknown.

When I arrived, I wasn't able to find the hotel I originally planned to stay at, but that was no matter. I got off the train, after hours of travelling. Immediately, I noticed impressive clouds covered in a kind of golden light where the sunlight shines through, like the calm after a storm. The clouds seems to swirl like powerful ocean currents. I took a picture on my flip phone. Maybe it's on my old profile. Or maybe it's gone. But that picture has stayed with me, the most perfect compositions of clouds, trees, temple, and landscape.

After a big of searching, I happened upon a youth hostel. The best part? It was in a temple! Yes, a real live temple overlooking the village. The ancient atmosphere in the heart of summer was unforgettable. It was warm, but not oppressively so. Insects, larger than any I'd ever seen back home, seemed to populate this place, and their chirps and songs were ever present. Later that night, an impressively big centipede creeping around on tatami mats made so much noise I was sure it was a mouse. But for now, I enjoyed seeing these denizens of the mountain forest fly around and sing.

I can now say with confidence that I'm a fan of the mountains, simply for the fact that travelling to the mountains always feels like a journey within, and the power and majesty of the great mountains is like a reminder the look up...and be surprised at what you see!