Drawn by a clear spring day, I wandered through Taejongdae, the scenic peninsula on the coast of Busan. At the station for the little sightseeing train, the resident cats quietly welcome passing visitors…

At the southern tip stands a lighthouse overlooking the Pacific Ocean. On this day, the sea was calm, stretching quietly toward the horizon beneath the gentle spring sky.

At the edge of the cape, visitors gathered around simple seafood stalls run by haenyeo, enjoying fresh seafood with the sea breeze and a wide view of the ocean. I watched from a distance.
; Haenyeo are traditional Korean women divers who harvest seafood by free diving without the use of breathing equipment. Their way of life has been passed down through generations and remains a unique part of Korea’s coastal culture.
Several sightseeing boats traced gentle circles along the coastline, carrying visitors across the calm spring sea. Watching them drift beneath the cliffs, I was reminded of how quietly people can enjoy a beautiful place.
At the little train stop where visitors begin their journey through Taejongdae, a few cats seem to have made the place their home. Greeting those who pass by, they add a gentle warmth to the peaceful atmosphere.

I have always enjoyed quietly watching cargo ships make their way across a bay. Here, too, I found myself lingering over a familiar scene, content to watch them pass in silence.

As evening fell, I headed back to the city for a bowl of ramen at one of my favorite places (CENTRAL SQUARE), only to find that it had quietly closed its doors.
It reminded me of a lesson I seem to learn again and again in Korea: the places we love can disappear before we realize it. Perhaps that’s why it’s worth visiting them whenever we have the chance.
To end the day, I settled into a well-known dwaeji-gukbap restaurant. A warm bowl of pork soup and rice was a simple, comforting way to bring another quiet walk to a close.
; Dwaeji-gukbap, a traditional Korean pork soup with rice.