Hokkaido and the Magic of Autumn 🍁

Dear Friend,

I can confirm that Hokkaido is beautiful in every season. But if you would like to see the autumn colours before everyone else, it is a wonderful place to begin.

In Japan, autumn begins in the cooler north, where the leaves slowly change colour before the season travels south. Spring makes the opposite journey: flowers bloom first in the warmer south, then gradually make their way north.

Travelling requires a little research. It helps us arrive in the right place at the right time and gives us a better chance of finding the beautiful things we hope to see.

But we should not take our plans too seriously.

Leaves may change earlier or later than expected. The weather may have ideas of its own. And sometimes the view we have travelled so far to see may be hiding behind a cloud.

As I said, Hokkaido is beautiful in every season.

I went on this trip with my dear older sister—the same wonderful sister who has travelled with me before. No matter how old we become, we can still let our older sisters look after us without worrying that they will say, “You’re grown up now. Take care of yourself.”

After all, however many years pass, an older sister will always be older than us.

That is simply how sisters—and mathematics—work.

There was one tiny resident of Hokkaido I hoped to meet: the Shima-enaga, affectionately known as Hokkaido’s little snow fairy. It is a tiny, round, white bird with a long tail and the sweetest little face.

They are not easy to find. And, of course, I still haven’t had the chance to meet one. Perhaps the snow fairies were busy that day. Or perhaps they saw me first and decided there was already one round white creature in the picture.

One of the reasons I love Japan is the thoughtfulness hidden in small details.

At one place, a little teru-teru-bozu—a traditional doll made to wish for good weather—was hanging by the window with a kind message. We were even invited to take it home as a souvenir.

At a restaurant, binoculars had been placed by the window so guests could watch a family of deer quietly coming down to eat the grass.

How could I not want to return to a place that thinks of such lovely little things?

Hokkaido also has what I like to call Uncle Fuji’s northern twin: Mount Yotei.

Just like Uncle Fuji, Uncle Yotei does not come to work every day. On some days, he stands proudly beneath a clear sky. On other days, he quietly goes back to sleep behind the clouds.

Luckily, we met him in the end.

There he was, watching over a wide golden field while two cows grazed happily below, as if having a beautiful mountain beside them were nothing unusual at all.

Then there was Blue Pond.

Despite its name, Blue Pond is not blue all the time. After heavy rain, or beneath a dark sky, the water can look grey and tired.

Perhaps Blue Pond becomes tired sometimes, too.

But if we are patient—if we sit quietly and enjoy the colourful trees and leaves around us—the clouds eventually move on. Before long, the pond finds its beautiful blue again.

Maybe we are a little like that.

We cannot look bright and peaceful every day. Sometimes our colours disappear for a while. It does not mean they are gone forever. Perhaps we simply need some time, a little rest and a little kindness while we wait for them to return.

Autumn reminds us that change can be beautiful.

The leaves do not stay the same colour forever. They turn from green to yellow, orange and red before gently letting go. Then, when the time is right, they begin again.

If leaves are allowed to change and start over every year, perhaps we are allowed to do the same.

Everyone has their own timeline, and we are always allowed to begin again.

Travelling also encourages us to step outside our familiar little world and try something new.

For me, it was a special blue cocktail that reminded me of Blue Pond, while my sister chose a soft orange one that looked like the sky during golden hour.

Sometimes leaving our comfort zone does not require a grand adventure. It may begin with choosing a different road, waiting patiently for a mountain, looking through a pair of binoculars—or simply ordering a new colour from the menu.

And after our two beautiful cocktails, my sister and I both slept very well and had the sweetest dreams.

Until our next little journey,

Martin