An Early Autumn

On September 1, the weather in Tokyo changed abruptly. All of a sudden, the sweltering heat and oppressive sunshine were gone. It felt like I had traveled to another season in another city: gray clouds, a light breeze, and a slight chill. Everyone says that Tokyo remains hot until mid-September at best, so I thought this cooler weather was just an aberration at first. But looking at the forecast for the next ten days, it seems like it is here to stay. Autumn has arrived early in Tokyo. 

Last autumn was the first one in which I walked the kids to and from daycare every day due to our new pandemic schedule. Although it was a pain at times, the walks made me appreciate the beauty of neighborhood. 

Early September in Bucktown

Glorious autumn.

The autumn air has made me feel nostalgic. It reminds me of listening to podcasts while taking long walks with my dog. It also reminds me of stepping on dog poop, covered and camouflaged by leaves. I don't miss that. 

Last year was the first year that E became fully aware of each season and all its celebrations. "Happy Halloweeeeen!" she began chirping, as soon as the neighborhood decorations went up. She would continue saying this until she finished the last of her Halloween candy weeks later. I disliked Halloween before kids and now with kids, I love it. My husband said that it wasn't really celebrated in Tokyo when he was a kid. It seems like things have changed, because as of September 1, you can find Halloween candy displayed prominently in grocery stores. 

A more conventional autumn food here, as in many other places, is chestnuts. Chestnut and mont blanc themed desserts are cropping up everywhere, like these mont blanc flavored KitKat bars. The actual dessert is better, but it was interesting to try. 

Just as my husband's grandmother made takenoko gohan (bamboo rice) to celebrate spring, she made kuri gohan (chestnut rice) to celebrate autumn - alongside an impressive plate of gyoza. 

All this, and the leaves haven't even begun changing their colors! Japan really loves seasonal foods and celebrating each season. 

There is a word in Japanese to describe summer malaise. It is natsubate. "Natsu" means summer in Japanese and "bate" is fatigue or tiredness. Japanese summers are not the hottest I've experienced - temperatures reached 100 Fahrenheit only once or twice - but the heat and humidity are unrelenting. Even at night, the temperature would stay in the 80s. Every day was the same: baking sun, humidity, high 80s to low 90s. I avoided going outside, and exercising was difficult. It felt like a quarantine. 

With the temperature dropping and clouds providing sun relief, I feel like I am shedding natsubate. With weather like this, we have renewed energy to go forth and explore.