On a train in Hokkaido, I was racing against time to catch the cranes at sunset. Just as the sky turned that perfect blue hour shade, a blizzard stopped us dead on the tracks. I was frustrated, watching the light disappear into the snow.
Across from me, an older man pulled out a flask and two small cups. He poured warm sake for us both, and we sat quietly, watching the snow fall. The windows fogged up, so no photo was possible. But maybe that was the point some moments are meant only for memory.
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