#175 Autumn at Its Edge
A gentle look at Japan’s fading colors and the quiet feelings they leave behind.
This #175 post will go out at 11 PM Japan time on the 30th. For many of you outside Australia and New Zealand, it will still be November. Time moves so quietly—and suddenly—only one month remains in the year.
In eastern Japan, most mountains have already shed their leaves, and Tokyo is finally reaching its moment of peak color. Autumn invites a certain stillness, a soft nostalgia that rises when you see leaves gathering under footpaths or drifting across a cold breeze. This week, instead of sharing travel tips, I want to write about what many Japanese people—myself included—feel during this season. I hope you can sense a little of my inner landscape through these reflections.
The Threshold of the Year
In the old Japanese calendar, November is Shimotsuki, the Frost Month, and December is Shiwasu, the Busy Month. Shimotsuki marks the mornings when frost begins to sharpen the air, while Shiwasu marks the time when everyone seems to hurry all at once, preparing to welcome the New Year. The shift from November to December is not merely a change in dates—it is a moment when you begin to feel winter settling into your bones, and at the same time, the year urging you forward.
Looking Back
Looking back, this year moved faster than I expected. I didn’t make my annual climb to Mt. Mizugaki in Yamanashi Prefecture—an important ritual that has always helped me reset before the year closes. Returning to full-time work in what will be my last year in the office, along with various family events, swallowed up the time I usually set aside for that mountain. In past years, standing at Mizugaki’s summit and breathing its sharp, clear air would shift something inside me. But this year, autumn passed without offering me that pause. For more details about my mountain trip last year (#127 Mt Mizugaki-Second Season), please refer to my previous post.
Autumn in Fragments
Instead of long walks in the mountains, this season arrived in fragments: a burst of gold between high-rise buildings, a solitary maple glowing beside a station platform, a quiet path of fallen leaves discovered by chance. These small encounters are beautiful, yet they also made me realize how quickly the transitional seasons seem to vanish now. One week, I was in short sleeves in October; the next, a sharp cold front swept south, and winter coats returned overnight. By the time I felt autumn had fully arrived, it was already beginning to slip away.
The Feeling
Thinking of cherry blossom season being only four months away is not sad. But realizing how quickly autumn vanished leaves a quiet loneliness. For those of us who move through our days quickly—travelers like you included—the colors in Tokyo’s parks are beautiful, but sometimes incomplete. When I step away from the noise, close my eyes, and inhale deeply, I’m reminded that autumn is not only something we see. It is something we feel: the cold air tightening the lungs, the scent of drying leaves, the hush that settles before winter takes over.
Finding Your Own Autumn in Tokyo
Tokyo’s golden ginkgo avenues are unforgettable, but if you ever sense that something is missing, follow that feeling. Step into the Imperial Palace East Gardens and walk until the city’s noise fades, or wander under the vast skies of Showa Memorial Park in Tachikawa. These are places where time slows just enough for your thoughts to settle, where the rhythm of the city gently loosens its hold. For more details about Showa Memorial Park, please visit a post from last week (#174 Tokyo’s Hidden Autumn).
Autumn will linger just a little longer. I hope you find a quiet moment somewhere—one that lets you breathe differently, gather your thoughts, and carry that sensation home. If it becomes one of your cherished memories of Japan, then this fleeting season will have given you something lasting.
As late autumn slowly gives way to winter, I hope this moment stays with you—the colors, the quiet, and the warmth that lingers even as the air turns colder. I look forward to sharing more scenes, stories, tips for getting around, and small discoveries as the seasons change. If these reflections bring you comfort or spark your curiosity, I hope you’ll return next week and continue walking through the seasons with me.
Your photos! Just breathtaking. We did not have as much color this year here in northern New England. I really enjoyed seeing your beautiful trees.
How lovely to linger in Autumn - my favourite season, and in Japan, too. We are definitely in winter now in Slovenia!