From the Niseko page of the SnowJapan website. How such things ought to be expressed.

“It is a cold and snowy night. The main street is deserted. The only things moving are swirls of snow. As I lift the mailbox door, I feel its cold iron. There is a privacy I love in this snowy night. Driving around, I will waste more time.”

Wind and snow and ice on Lake Yuno and Nantai-San beyond that. That last day of January.

Because sometimes you desire hot soba in front of an icy waterfall.

Shame on those, who upon reading that someone has died while hiking, or skiing, a person who no doubt spent their final moments frightened and in pain, feels compelled to mock that person's choices, without being privy to any further details, when only Rest In Peace would have sufficed. Or Silence.

“Many human beings say that they enjoy the winter, but what they really enjoy is feeling proof against it. For them there is no winter food problem. They have fires and warm clothes… For birds and animals, as for poor men, winter is another matter.”

Through a frosted window. Waiting.

355 Days Until Christmas.

Because things happen. Not every day will the bath be hot, the home smell of dashi, and the snow fall softly. But this day it will.

And then it’s gone. Sundown over Nikko and on 2025.

“The amount of irony, complaining, and being sarcastic … it’s overkill. You have to compliment, be nice, and be funny.” After coffee, before hockey, from a travel video. A woman speaking to her father.

Some nights are more frost than snow. A backyard in Nikko. The last of December.

For the first time we decided to order one of those fancy Osechi sets for New Year’s. (Though not the largest one available because, come on, it’s still osechi, let’s not get carried away.)

The season for hotpot and being lazy as fuck.

A renovated Western-style home, across from a shrine, between two shrine gates (and in a hazard map zone, but you are only looking, not actually buying, so skip that part). (4,980万円 or USD 318,000, if you were curious) www.realkanazawaestate.jp/estate.php?n...

Accidentally told the gas station attendant that I would like some “soy milk” instead of “kerosene” and so I will be leaving the country tomorrow. As if I didn’t feel like a city slicker imposter to begin with.

That distinct and easily identifiable sound that says there are monkeys on the roof.

An aging rabbit in front of a Christmas tree. Go out of your way to be kind to your elders. And everyone else, just the same.

Plum Blossoms. Koenji, Tokyo. The last Saturday of 2025.

The weight that comes with choosing the very last Christmas song of the year.

You will be visited by 3 spirits… Too niche?

🎼 Spring over the ground Like a hunting hound For this is Christmas Day 🎼 The what now?

🎶 Come on everybody, you know the words, let's sing it together: We wish you a merry Christmas, We wish you a merry Christmas, We wish you a merry Christmas, And a peaceful new year Good night everybody, be kind to each other, it's all we really have left! 🎶 Right you are.

Christmas Eve. 4:38 p.m. While it Lasts.

深刻な雪不足 Accounting for regional dialects, can most accurately be translated as “Bro” or “Dude.” Sometimes with the elongated “Duuude.”

To be in the moment. To appreciate every single second of life remaining. To get right down to that marrow. Or to celebrate the two most mail-it-in days of the year with an oversized bowl of ramen.

Around the corner from home. Running errands on the Sunday before Christmas. Koenji.

The score sucks. The company does not. Those lazy Sunday mornings.

With holiday find-the-bunny footage. And one of the finest renditions anywhere.

Shinjuku, Tokyo. The Saturday before Christmas. However you think this may go, I can assure you it will be different.

For those days on the calendar that are December twenty-something. And for trying to stretch them as long as possible.

I do appreciate a good life in the countryside. Those still places that support the soul. And I appreciate a good life in the city. Good doctors, a walk away, to heal the body. But mostly, just appreciate life, while it lasts. And the cute illustrations that come with it.

"I have taught myself languages because of you."

“and suddenly everything became clear to him”

That the doorbell would suddenly ring on a Sunday afternoon. The realtor, several years after the fact, with cookies as an end-of-the-year gift. I can’t make the case against that.

Twelve More Sleeps …

With seasonal find-the-bunny footage.

A mailbox which has broken and fallen over. That’s good symbolism, right? Free. Untethered. A child of the earth.

A wise high school English teacher once said always preface bad news with “Everything’s fine now, but…” After being told his son had been in a car accident and, for a moment, fearing the worst. Because it was, in fact, fine now. And so, while I greatly appreciate …

When the one leaves a day early so the other two pause a moment by the front door.

A renovated farmhouse in rural Kagoshima would not be for everyone. But if it were for you. (950万円 or USD 61,000, if you were curious) www.realkagoshimaestate.jp/estate.php?n...

"Baseball is stressful." A very patient wife, after listening to her husband one December morning, over toast and coffee, fourteen days until Christmas.

"last night I dreamt were watching a burial at sea. At first I was astonished. And then filled with regret. But you touched my arm and said, "No, it's all right. She was very old, and he'd loved her all her life."

That time of year when you want to be a little bit nicer. Especially towards the littlest among us. Or something like that.

Between there and here on a Sunday afternoon. Koenji.

Yakitori Skewers in Shadow. Circa 2025.

Seems a bit much. You know, for a vibrator.

The red and green lights of the season lead you home.