Once More into the Out(side World)

As prefaced in my last post; the days leading up to the velvety release of those spring breezes are some of the toughest to endure all year, but when you finally catch that first hint of a year's forgotten season it very nearly reanimates the soul. 


Standing at the forefront of symbolism in this island nation, the Japanese Sakura 桜 (cherry blossom) is without a doubt the most iconic embodiment of spring. For many Japanese the word itself is a even suitable replacement for "flower." This is because every year, from the most southern tip of Okinawa to the mountainous northern regions of Hokkaido cherry trees explode into bloom. It seems almost everywhere you look, elegant, subtle shades of pink abound, sometimes floating and twisting dreamily on the warming breezes. It's quite an enchanting sight, and for a nation that loves to be enchanted, the pink poof of spring's starting gun brings a blossom viewing frenzy.


For as long as there has been art, there have been flowers to inspire it, but it wasn't until about the 10th century that cherry blossoms became a prominent motif of spring. They began to appear on anything from lacquered bowls to elaborate kimonos, brightly suggesting youth, vigor, and the warmth of change. They even formed the central tenet of much of the poetry of that time. One such famous poem from the period reads;


"It's because the cherry blossoms fall
That they're beautiful in the eyes of all.
Nothing is eternal in the world we live in."
                                                    -Unknown

As alluded to in the above poem, the attraction of these vibrant blossoms runs deeper than just their austere beauty. Lasting only about a week in total, it makes it easy to draw parallels with our own mortality; from the colorful, bursting birth out of the darkness of winter, to the withering fall in all too short a time.

Here a man regales fellow party-goers using his laminated (and therefore beer proofed) manga

The tradition of Hanami 花見 (cherry blossom viewing parties) didn't catch on until the start of the Edo period around 400 years ago. Townspeople would gather under the blooming trees with food and drink and have rambunctious parties as a way of blowing off steam. Not much has changed over the course of these last 4 centuries, in fact, it seems even more apparent these days that Hanami is less about viewing the flowers, and more about cutting loose. Cue the salary man in a business suit drunkenly crashing his bicycle into the pond (yes that did actually happen). Now that the season has come to a close and everyone's liver is breathing a sigh of relief, 128,000 East Asian island dwellers and myself will once again begin the arduous task of keeping a count for how long it is until the next time this wonderful burst of color passes our way again. 

Boisterous revelers maximizing participation using a single jump rope 

Unfortunately rain plays a major role in stripping the delicate blossoms off their trees