Autumn-Colored Shirayuki Town
The autumn colors lit a vivid flame in the cold air of Shirayuki Town.
The name of this town comes from the fact that it is covered in deep snow for about half the year, just as its name suggests. Spring comes late, and summer is short. However, that short autumn shows a momentary, magnificent splendor, as if it were a reward for the time spent enduring.
Today, Shirayuki Town was at its peak.
The banks of the "Snowmelt River," a usually drab gray river flowing through the center of town, had turned into a stunning palette of colors. The Japanese maples, maples, and even the ginkgo trees lining the streets that had descended from the mountains were competing to exhaust their colors. Deep crimson, vermilion, and golden yellow. These were reflected on the water's surface, and the river took on a thick, smooth hue, as if oil paints had been dissolved into it.
"The autumn leaves this year are more intense than usual."
Takeshi, the master of "Silver Snow," an old coffee shop behind the post office, spoke to his regular customer, Satoko, across the counter. Outside the window was a truly burning sight. However, inside the shop, just like his name, a calm and settled silver time was flowing.
Satoko took a sip of her dark-roasted coffee and nodded quietly. Her profession is that of a librarian at the town's only library. Her life loves order and silence above all else. For her, autumn in Shirayuki Town was a slightly "noisy" time.
"Yes. But I suppose this noisiness makes the silence that is coming soon stand out even more."
Satoko stared at the burning red of the maples outside the window. She always felt that color was a "final cry." A passionate moment before burning out one's life and falling into the long, white sleep of winter that would soon arrive.
Takeshi, while wiping a cup, sensed the loneliness behind Satoko's words. He was born in this town and knew well that melancholic silence when the autumn leaves begin to scatter.
"How much longer until it snows?"
"We might see the first snow tonight or tomorrow morning."
Satoko's predictions are more accurate than the weather forecast for the residents of Shirayuki Town. She feels everything—the color of the leaves, the height of the sky, the coldness of the wind—with her own skin. Just as she said, this feast of autumn colors would soon come to an end.
Three o'clock in the afternoon. The sunlight was still strong, but the wind was already that of winter.
Satoko left "Silver Snow" and began walking toward the library. A maple leaf that had been dancing in the wind stuck to the cream-colored wool cardigan she loved to wear. It was a crisp, autumn-colored fragment that made a dry sound when crushed between her fingertips.
When she opened the heavy wooden door of the library, it was already filled with the signs of winter. The hustle and bustle outside was blocked out, and the air was filled with the quiet scent of ink and paper.
Sitting in a seat by the window, she tucked the autumn-colored leaf she had been holding between the pages of the book she was reading. Not as a bookmark, but as a fragment of memory.
This little leaf would remind her of today's burning landscape during the long, white winter until next spring. This short "autumn-colored time" before Shirayuki Town turned "silver" once again.