Exploring Shiori Pass The clouds had me so captivated that I forgot to read my map

I stepped out of the car at Shiori Pass that morning and zipped up my long down coat. I put on a gray knit hat and pale purple scarf, then slung on my small backpack. As the sky began to brighten, I left the car park for the trail and set off for Viewpoint 1.

With the folded map in my hands, I spotted white clouds through the trees. I looked up and saw them spilling over the mountains between a rounded peak on my left and a taller one on my right. I froze, mouth hanging open, still holding the map. Clouds really do drift this low.

From the sea of clouds in the distance, a white stream spilled down the slope in front of me. At the narrowest point, another cloud seemed to catch up and roll over it. I could see why they call it a waterfall of clouds, even before I read the explanation.

Sunlight came through and brightened the autumn leaves on the nearby branches. The distant mountains were still hazy, but the leaves at my feet stood out in crisp detail. I lowered my map again and watched the light spread between the mountains and clouds. By then, the morning I’d woken up early for had become one I couldn’t forget.

I followed one cloud with my eyes, then found myself waiting for just one more. Even with my fingertips tucked into my coat sleeves, I couldn’t make myself look away to check the map again. I’d driven the mountain road to get here, never imagining a morning like this was waiting for me. I took a deep breath, wanting to remember the cold air, too.

On the way back, I’d love to try an onigiri made with freshly harvested rice in Uonuma. But first, I wanted to watch these clouds a little longer. I folded the map and slipped it back into my backpack. I could work out where to go next later. For now, I wanted to watch the day unfold over the mountains.