Author: Mark Hovane

May: Satsuki

May is also known as “Satsuki“. It is the month in which rice sprouts sanae are planted and also the season of samidare or “early summer rain”. Both Sanae-zuki and Samidare-zuki can be abbreviated to Satsuki.

After the fanfare of cherry blossom (sakura) in April, the beginning of May is much quieter, although the shobu or Sweet-flag makes an appearance at the Boy’s Day Festival on May 5th. Shobu no sekku or Boy’s Day is one of five seasonal festivals, closely following Hina Matsuri for girls. The power of shobu originates from a Chinese legend. It’s leaves are used in traditional decorations and were known to ward off evil spirits and avert fires. At this time of the year, leaves are bundled and placed in the bath shobu-yu.

Speaking of iris, one of my favourite flowers of this month is katkitsubata or Rabbit-ear iris, which is usually grown in waterside areas or ponds. The leaves are sword shaped and grow in clusters. From a long stalk , flowers bloom, the most beautiful are deep blue/purple. They look magnificent enmasse and can be appreciated in various shrine gardens around Kyoto. As the flower looks like a flying swallow,, the Chinese characters meaning: “young-of-a-swallow-flower” are used to depict the name in Japanese.

Wisteria fuji is also an emblematic flower at this time. It can be seen in many places: high up in the Kyoto hills, aggressively wrapped around tall conifers as well as meticulously trimmed specimens, trained carefully over arbors in both domestic and temple gardens. Mauve is the most common colour for the Japanese Wisteria floribunda although the larger white flowered variety can also be seen.

Continuing the purple theme so prevalent this month is the delicately flowering “miyako-wasure“. It is a form of summer chrysanthemum. On each 15-20cm stalk, there grows only one flower, usually dark purple in colour. Legend has it that a high ranking exile gazed intensely at the flower which enabled hime to forget about “miyako” (the capital) and so it is called “miyako-wasure“.

However, May is not a month for melancholy. The colour green is now in abundance. Fresh green leaves seem to be bursting out everywhere and many Japanese enjoy going to visit the mountains and gardens to appreciate the beauty of the new growth. The term “shin-ryoku” is a well known seasonal word (kigo) and conjures up the vibrancy of early summer (shoka). Young Maple leaves (ao-momiji) in particular are prized for their delicate new greenery and many tourist spots have begun extolling the virtues of “ao-momiji” as a drawcard in a season that is seen as having reliably pleasant weather.

Kage hitasu/ mizu sae iro zo / midori naru /
yo-mo no ko-zue no / onaji waka-ba ni

With fresh greenery at all points of the compass, it is no wonder that the water with the reflection of the treetops is also green.

— Teika

April: Uzuki

Another name for April is “Hana-zangetsu” meaning that there are still some flowers left. Although officially it is the second month of Spring in the solar calendar, traditionally it corresponds to the end of the season.

April is all about the ubiquitous cherry blossom (sakura). Revered as the national flower and referenced in countless songs and poems, these blossoms steadfastly represent the aesthetic beauty of Japan.

Samurai in the middle ages, not afraid to die at the peak of life were symbolized by the image of the cherry blossom falling off a branch while still perfect and unwithered. There are a number of phrases related to sakura, my favourite of which is “sakura fubuki” which connotes “cherry blossom blizzard”. It is quite startling to behold petals fluttering to the ground enmasse, as they fall off branches in sudden gusts of wind.

In modern Japan too, this is an auspicious time of beginnings. Not only is it the start of the financial year when university graduates are inducted into company life as “freshmen/women”, it is also the start of the school year from elementary through university. There are many social gatherings to celebrate these rites of passage and epitomized by large “hana-mi” (cherry blossom viewing” parties. A hana-mi party in full swing is a site to behold. My favourite party venues tend to be at shrines like Hirano in the west of Kyoto or under the “grand dame” of Weeping Cherry “shidare-zakura” at Maruyma Park near Yasaka Shrine downtown. There is more than a distinct air of gaiety (bordering on raucousness) particularly in the evenings as sake and beer fuel impromptu public karaoke sessions and the populace dare to “let their collective hair down” in a manner that is quite atypical for such an etiquette focused culture.

Speaking of cherry trees themselves: there is a large variety.
The season begins with higan-zakura which tend to have small single blossoms; yama-zakura that bloom at the same time that their delicate browny-pink leaves come out. The most common and quintessential image is that of somei-yoshino. the sight of the fluffy white blooms resembling clouds against a backdrop of blue sky is indeed magical to behold. Finally, the double pink yae-zakura which look like nothing other than pink candy floss. Notwithstanding the range of blossoms, the entire blooming season is still relatively short and emphazises for the Japanese the ephemeral beauty of nature.

Although sakura receive all the attention this month, there are many other things to enjoy in domestic and temple gardens round the city. The delicate mauve coloured, frilled petals of the Japanese iris(shaga) forms carpets where it is allowed to spread freely. Mid month also sees the blooming of the intensely yellow kerria (yamabuki), (member of the Rose family). It occurs in either a single or double bloom and can be appreciated along the canal that runs alongside the famous Philosopher’s Path in the north-east of the city. It has long been loved as a flower native to Japan and even appears in the ancient poetry text, the Man’yoshu. Seen adjacent to the kerria is mitsumata which is a deciduous shrub of the Daphne (jinchoge) family. Flowers are yellow and cylindrical appearing before the leaves. It is a raw material for traditional papermaking.

Nevertheless, the limelight squarely belongs with cherry blossom this month and various sweets are made with the pickled leaves of sakura with a sweet bean paste filling (sakura-mochi). The blossoms may also be preserved and infused in hot water to make a fragrant tea.

Kono-iro ka / hito ni mo utsuse / sakura-mochi

Transfer to us your feminine charms, Sakura-mochi

— Kyokusen

March : Yayoi

An alternative name for March is Yayoi which comes from “iya oishigeru” meaning “plants grow luxuriantly”. Spring is coming slowly and often mornings are still acutely cold.One of the most tangible indicators of “haru meku” meaning “becoming very spring-like” is the budding green of the new leaves on willow trees (yanagi) that line the east side of the Kamo River. It is this “beginning” of the season that is most significant aesthetically for the Japanese.

shunshoku koge nashi

Spring is now in its full glory everywhere for everyone

By the time the cherry blossoms (sakura) arrive at the beginning of April, Japanese feel that Spring is already fading even though it buoyant mood still lingers.

Walking around my neighbourhood, I am hit by the pungently sweet fragrance of the white and crimson pink flowering daphne (jinchoge). Here and there we can also see the blossoms of the Japanese quince (boke) which is actually a deciduous tree of the Rose family. Quince blooms resembling plum blossoms in form, flower prior to the appearance of leaves. The branches are often contorted in angular shapes which make for dramatic placement in ikebana arrangements.

My favourite plant of this period is the Rapeseed flower (na-no-hana) (member of the Mustard family). With the warming of the air in early Spring, the bright yellow green flower erupts in fields in rural areas.
Farmers cultivate it for food, pickling the flowers with salt and calling the product “hana-na-zuke“, sold as a famous product of Kyoto. This simple flower (said to be a favourite of the esteemed Tea Master Sen no Rikyu), is one of the symbols of Spring.

 

Na no hana ya/ Yodo mo Katsura mo/ wasure mizu

The impact of na no hana everywhere obscures the Rivers of Yodo and Katsura

— Gonsui

February: Yukige-zuki

In the lunar calendar, February is the time when the snow starts to melt, hence “yukige-zuke” (snow melting).

Japanese culture is traditionally inflected by twenty four seasonal points and the day after Setsubun (February 3rd or 4th), marks the beginning of Spring, a time known as Risshun.
It is still cold, but here and there emerge signs of the new season.

One of the indicators is “yuki-ma-gusa“. This is a young sprout (gusa) peeping out from under the crust (ma) of snow (yuki).
A famous poem explains the sentiment of this month.

Hana onomi/matsuran hito ni/yama-zato no/yuki-ma no kusa no/haru o misebaya.

To those who lust after only cherry blossoms, I want to point out the mountain hamlet spring grasses breaking through the snow.

— Ietaka

Recently, I was reminded of these words after visiting a famous Kyoto tea shop, where I watched a master handcraft a delicious, earth coloured tea sweet (wagashi) that featured delicate green tufts spiking through a light veil of snow coloured confection. Multiple aesthetic references create a deeper resonance. This sensitivity to the nuances of seasonal change is something that is impossible to tire of here in Kyoto.

Actually, more than anything else, it is the blooming of the Japanese plum (ume) that most truly heralds the end of winter and the beginning of Spring. The Japanese have long appreciated the resilience of these blossoms, pushing their delicate buds through the piercing cold and bracing air.
Plum blossoms also resonate for the Chinese and feature prominently in poetry from both cultures.

Itten baika no zui sanzen sekai kambashi

One plum blossom makes the whole world fragrant.

— Anonymous

Plum blossom (ume) is typically five petalled and the most common varieties to be seen in Japanese gardens are either: white (shiro/haku) or red (aka/ko). In traditional Japanese paintings, the plum is usually depicted in a pairing with the sweetly voiced bush warbler (uguisu).

This month I have also enjoyed visiting a masterpiece of Japanese landscape design called Joju-in (a subtemple of the famous Kiyomizudera). Like so many wonderful gardens, it is not known clearly who the designer was, although both Soami and Kobori Enshu have been attributed. In addition to the magnificent execution of borrowed scenery (shakkei), using the adjacent Yuya valley, another highlight of this garden is the gracious four hundred year old “Wabisuke Tsubaki” (wabisuke camellia), thought to have been planted by the famous warlord Toyotomi Hideyoshi. The “Wabisuke” camellia is one of many varieties of winter blooming camellias and is particularly prized in the tea ceremony world for its small, single red flowers which never open fully and are therefore seen as appropriately modest and tasteful.

February is indeed an underappreciated month in which to enjoy the pleasures of the Japanese garden and while the lingering cold might prove challenging to stay at length in landscaped space, this is more than compensated for, by the fact of sharing the experience with far fewer people. There is a lot to be said for an “off season” visit.

January: Mu-tsuki

One of the traditional names for this month is “mu-tsuki” meaning to go visiting friends and acquaintances to greet the New Year. The festive New Year season is incredibly important to Japanese and there are many rituals and aesthetic symbols connoting the turning of the solar calendar.

As part of the seasonal decorations from January 1st to 15th “matsu-no-uchi”, pine (matsu) features heavily.
In addition to being a constituent piece in the “kadomatsu” decorations, pine also features in the traditional triplet arrangement known as “sho-chiku-bai”. (pine-bamboo-plum). This is often seen as a miniature landscape of potted plants carefully arranged in a blue flat bowl, surrounded by tiny white pebbles and stones which symbolize the sea and mountains. It is often displayed at New Year’s, decorated with branches of sacred bamboo (nanten).This triplet of pine/bamboo/plum symbolizes good luck and happiness and is also used for comparisons. Instead of describing something as the greatest, greater or great, the Japanese would refer to it as: “matsu” (greatest), “take” (greater) and “ume” (great).

On January 10th, I was lucky enough to be invited to my tea teacher’s home for the first tea ceremony practice of the year “hatsugama”. This is a big event in the tea world and as one of the preparations for this occasion, we tidied the garden to welcome our three guests. Taking care not to sweep too hard lest I destroy the delicate moss, I relished the opportunity to “manicure” my allotted portion. To remove every fallen leaf and other debris, took much longer than I had anticipated and brought home to me yet again the fundamental importance of maintenance in the upkeep of a meticulous Japanese garden. I found the work to be meditative and my efforts were rewarded with a wonderful feeling of calmness.

This first tea practice “hatsugama” is laden with aesthetic symbolism and I particularly enjoyed the long slender branches of a knotted willow tree “musubi-yanagi” where two or three boughs measuring about three metres had been arranged in a freshly cut, green bamboo vase, hung high in a corner of the sacred alcove (tokonoma). The branches drape to the floor and the shortest of these was made into a loop about 30cm in diameter at a position a little higher than the middle and the rest of the draping branches were passed through the loop. The loop was secured by wrapping the other branches around it a few times. In Japan, to tie things together or to tie a relationship is to make a promise and this is a symbol of happiness. Tea ceremony in general, is a wonderful repository of seasonally inflected Japanese customs.

Yet another symbol of winter decorations is the widely used ornamental kale “ha-botan”. I planted this variety of cabbage in blue terracotta pots, positioned at the entrance to my house. Purple, green and white leaves (ha) like crepes, wind around one another resembling the bloom of a peony (botan). Leaf colour is affected by temperature, the colder the weather, the better the colour. This plant was introduced to Japan by Dutch traders during the latter part of the Edo period (1603-1867).

Now that the month has come to a close, I have realized that January is particularly rich in the symbolic usage of plants and flowers to mark key dates in the Japanese calendar.

Everything changes in this world;
but the flowers are just the same as the Spring of yesteryear.

— Ryokan