Rice fields, nostalgia | Mayu Valley Hot Spring Town.

As you enter Mayu Valley, the fresh air hits you, seemingly carrying the fragrance of the earth and the aroma of rice. As you walk along the winding path, the lush rice fields slowly unfold before your eyes like a painting. Standing on the ridge of the field, you can see the greenery that instantly purifies your soul. The breeze blows, the rice sways gently, like green waves surging. The sun shines on the rice fields, giving off a golden glow, and each rice stalk is like a work of art carefully carved by nature. Walking on the path in the rice field, you can feel the softness of the soil under your feet. There are occasionally a few cute scarecrows by the field, they seem like loyal guards, guarding this hope of harvest. I walked up to the scarecrow, took a photo with them, and seemed to have become the guardian of this rice field. In a corner of the rice field, a clear stream flows by. The stream reflects the blue sky, white clouds, and green rice, which is a feast for the eyes.