Scenic photographs that Katsuhiko Hashimoto calls by-products of travels and strolls through towns: walking with a camera slung over the shoulder and pressing the shutter a few times at a view that makes an impression. Looking them over one day, the scenery of all those excursions turned out in printed form, and the photographer discovers always having regarded scenery with exactly the same gaze; photographs reveal a curious expressiveness separate from what is experienced with the naked eye. Memories flood back and retreat with nostalgia, the mundane scenes of town are better than renowned scenic or historic sites, and traversing side streets brings a sense of the mournful lonesomeness of depopulating towns and, it is hoped, the warmth of the lives of those living there. In the afterword Hashimoto asks whether photographs are the product of memory or documentation in themselves, and suggests that the photographer is perpetually seeking out the other scenery within.