Autumn has arrived

It is golden here right now. The leaves and world have turned from the rain of November into the crimson and clarity of Autumn. The seasons seem slightly off - one step behind Europe, a staggered set of seasons that chase to catch up with each other. And so, despite the careful attempts to gather up the fallen leaves, by school children during breaktimes and the 'general do gooders' like the uniformed man outside of Kichijoji station, the yellows and reds burn and gather in piles on pavements and parked cars, falling too steadily for tokyo-ites to tidy them away. My bike ride is a rush of bright yellow sunshine and leaves that set my trail on fire. And afternoons are cold, cloudless, short and orange.

One of my favourite things about living in a city is watching how, despite attempts to 'civilise', categorise and contain the wild temper of the natural world, nature manages to creep and wind its way into the streets and days of the city dweller. Snow in Washington brings the white house to a standstill. And perhaps almost as dramatically - Autumn in Tokyo paints the streets gold. Perhaps coming from Britain makes me extra observant of the seasons. We are a people who love talking about the weather. And in one day we follow the shifting of many seasons. But the four seasons tend to disintegrate through rain clouds and greys, rather than through dramatic and majestic turns. Tokyo however enjoys the starkest of contrasts in its seasons. The weather forecast can actually be trusted to tell the rain percentage likely in a day and the rise or fall in temperature can be acurately predicted and followed. No one can be ignorant of the season you are stepping into when you arrive in Tokyo.

Rather beautifully, Japanese people also seem to realise and appreciate the interplay of the manmade and the natural. Observing the changing of the leaves is a well known pastime, as is cherry blossom viewing in Spring, moon and star gazing in summer and snow on temple watching in February.