The cherry blossoms may have departed, but spring is definitely in the air here in Kudamatsu. The weather is getting milder and milder and the humidity is starting to set in, just as the cold grip of the bitter Japanese winter is beginning to loosen. As in many countries it’s one of the most beautiful times of year. I realize it’s a little late, but I thought I’d share a few shots of the lovely cherry blossoms at my local shrine:
In my opinion, though, the cherry blossoms aren’t quite as enchanting as the rice fields. I guess that’s kind of a strange thing to say, but some of my best memories here in Japan have been walking along the rice fields in late summer when the crops are engorged with deep, vibrant green coloring and are constantly submerged in a thick slurry of water and fresh earth. The heat and the crops attract all kinds of brilliantly colored insects, and at night you can you hear a steady chorus of cicadas chirping and frogs bellowing. At every turn, the world is teeming with life.
I bring this up because in the winter most of the farmers’ fields lie fallow. The rice is harvested at the end of autumn and hung upside-down amid scarecrows while the farmers burn the chaff. The burning weeds and discarded bits of the crops produce an aroma that’s sweeter than any incense I’ve encountered in my time here. Little troops of birds crowd into the fields and gobble up any seeds or rice kernels they can find, then gradually depart.
During winter weeds and shoots of rice from the undiscovered seeds start to spring up, yellowing as the cold sets in. A feeling of stagnation hangs over everything until finally spring arrives again. Slowly, all of the farmers in the area begin to till the soil, either with hoes or riding rototillers, and suddenly everywhere you look there are vast patches of rich, brown earth that’s been upturned. The tilled soil brings the promise of new greenery and new life. For me, that moment is the beginning of spring.
Nihonglish 