" Down where Spring's water joined the tide of the sea, numberless fishing nets were drying in the sun, hanging from erect poles of longer or shorter lengths and were giving, one might suspect, a fish-smelling warmth to the soft breeze wafting towards the village through their meshes. And one saw between them the placid face of the sea, undulating slowly like molten lead. "

― Natsume Sōseki , The Three-Cornered World