“The picture must have been taken yesterday if it was in this morning’s
paper. Yesterday’s clouds were arranged just like these today. It’s odd isn’t
it—the clouds keep moving, but the arrangement stays the same.”
Jiro doubted that Utako had looked at the picture carefully enough that
she could really say “yesterday’s clouds were the same.”
The fact that Utako had looked at Mount Fuji only after Jiro said
“There’s snow on Mount Fuji” was evidence of this. She hadn’t noticed the
mountain at all until he spoke. Surely Utako would have watched for the
mountain when they boarded the train for Ito if it was true that the
photograph had affected her so strongly. Surely she would have seen it
before he did.
The train had already passed Oiso.
No doubt Utako had remembered the picture in this morning’s paper
only after Jiro said “There’s snow on Mount Fuji”—only after she looked at
the mountain. Few people had reason to look so closely at a newspaper
photograph of Mount Fuji.
If what Utako said was true—if the clouds around Mount Fuji had really
been arranged in the same way yesterday as these today—it seemed to Jiro
that one could sense in this the awesomeness of nature.
On the other hand, perhaps it was natural for Utako to forget the picture
when she boarded the train with Jiro, even if it had affected her strongly
this morning.
Utako had known that morning that she would take the train to Odawara
with him and might well have made a mental note to mention the first snow
once they reached a place from which Fuji could be seen. But even if this
were the case, it was quite possible that in the end she had been so agitated
she had forgotten to bring it up.
