Autumn

Autumn has come. I have no idea how and when this could have happened. Perhaps I've been too busy, perhaps I just thought I'd continue living in a perpetual summer. I suppose both of them are true in a way. I haven't really thought about the future much since I've come here. Who would have thought it would suddenly hit me? (With an icicle.)

A lot of Japanese people are very proud of the four distinct seasons that Japan has to offer. I have been asked more than once if we had four seasons in my country. It's a somewhat naive and silly question to ask, but it's representative of how distinctly Japanese a phenomenon four seasons are regarded to be by some people. A lot of fuss is made about them.

In Austria, when autumn comes, people usually whine on about it for a while until they've found something new to whine on about, namely winter. Only in elementary schools is autumn regarded as somewhat noteworthy: students are made to pick up fallen leaves, pine seeds, chestnuts and what not and arrange them into pictures, then stick those on pieces of paper.

In Japan, however, the change of seasons is a major event for people of all age groups. People are actually looking forward to it way in advance. I've been told several times in the middle of summer how nice this area will be in autumn when all the leaves have changes their colours and autumnal tourism is booming. When the leaves turn red, this is called 紅葉 (kouyou) and for Japanese tourism it is as important as hanami (watching the famous cherry blossoms) is in spring. On the TV you can see lengthy koyo-reports giving information on where the koyo is best this week, where the leaves have newly coloured and where they are almost ready to. You can see helicopters flying over forests to film the koyo, people sending in haiku about the koyo etc. Of course the koyo is also a popular conversation topic often used to relativize the notorious "It's cold, isn't it?"

Back home I wouldn't have given much thought to some leaves changing colour to be honest, although Carinthia's forests are gorgeous when they do. But now I have noticed that I am getting quite enthusiastic about the koyo myself.  In discussions of places I haven't been yet, I find myself exclaiming "oh, I've heard the koyo was beautiful there!" like I'm not myself anymore. The other day I even went for a long walk half way up the mountain to photograph some of it:

People travel quite far to see our koyo and personally I think it's quite pretty. Or maybe it's just due to my changed perception...