Where the Cold Stayed Outside
On winter nights, the wind would beat against the windows.
Whenever it pressed against the storm shutters, something somewhere in the house would make a low sound.
Inside, the flame of the kerosene heater flickered.
There was that particular smell of burning kerosene.
The cold should have made such nights unpleasant. And yet, winter nights had been a favorite since childhood.
Sometimes, the window was opened and the storm shutters were slid, one by one, into their wooden box.
Beyond the cold air, the night sky appeared.
The winter darkness should have been deep and black, yet the stars and moon laid a pale wash of white over it.
Listening closely, a faint “gooo…” could be heard from somewhere far away.
Perhaps it was the wind.
But to a child’s ears, it sounded as though the winter night itself were making that sound, somewhere in the distance.
On nights like those, books by Kenji Miyazawa seemed just right.
Turning the pages beside the heater, the starry sky in the book became one with the sky outside the window.
The wind beats against the window.
The flame of the heater flickers.
Inside the book, the story is still going on.
Outside, the stars are shining.
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