With a signpost as my guide, I turned down a side road off of Prefectural Route 75 and descended a steep road to the beach.
The road was narrow and the surface unstable, so I drove carefully.
The route between densely growing trees took quite a while until, suddenly, the view cleared and I arrived at wide open land.
There were unusual, massive rocks crowding together as the rough waves of the Pacific Ocean slammed the shore.
On the side of the beach, there was a large cave punched into the rock.
This was the place called Matate-no-Iwaya (literally, the Cave of the Standing Horse).
It got this name when Tanegashima Hatatoki, the tenth generation lord of the island, suddenly disappeared in the cave, leaving only his trusty horse standing like a sentinel at the front.
(Due to the risk of falling rocks, the cave is currently off limits.)
This beach has an untouched ambiance to it because of its remote location.
With nearly no signs of life, the land is raw and unadulterated.
I sensed the beauty of the wilderness.
Perhaps the long path between the prefectural road and the beach was a boundary line separating the world of humans and the world of nature.
Injou Beach, where one can sense the primordial Earth.
Scenes touched by people are calm and beautiful, but scenes untouched by people are wild and beautiful.