I have a confession: I’m addicted to Japanese rice fields.

Not addicted in the traditional sense, though. I haven’t ever helped plant, take care of, or harvest a rice field in Japan. I eat just as much rice as everyone else, no more no less. I don’t want to actually own my own rice field.

No, my love for rice fields is purely visual.

I love watching the wind play over the tips of the stalks of grass. The sight of green waves, crashing over each other in contrast to the blue sky—well, it calms me.