By the middle of November, Kenrokuen is running two seasons at once. The maples are at their peak — mid to late month — and at the same time the gardeners are already preparing for snow. That coincidence, more than any single tree, is what this garden gives you in autumn.

The deepest colour is at Yamazakiyama, a mound built on part of Kanazawa Castle's old earthworks, known by a second name that simply means maple hill. Maple and horse chestnut turn from the top down, and the fallen leaves carry the colour to the ground, so the red runs from overhead to underfoot. At Kasumigaike, the Kotoji lantern stands at the water's edge; cross the Niji bridge, turn back, and the far bank doubles itself in the pond. Sazaeyama, a nine-metre mound raised from the earth dug out when the pond was widened, gives you the height to see it all.

Then there are the ropes. Through November the yukitsuri go up — some eight hundred trees fitted with poles and straw rope to hold their branches against the wet snow that comes later. The work is quick, practical, and quietly beautiful to watch.

For a few weeks the garden holds both: red leaves below, white cones of rope above, autumn ending and winter being prepared for in the same view. Other gardens have maples. This particular overlap belongs to Kanazawa. Come late in the month and you get the hinge of the year itself.