The beauty of this tree holds a great deal of meaning in Japan — there are cultural references to the sakura everywhere — and the anticipation of flower-viewing season, called hanami, is palpable.

It’s palpable because it is fickle.  No one (not even the Japanese meteorological agency) seems to be very good at fixing the date for hanami.  In addition, sometimes bad weather shows up at the worst time, seriously abbreviating the bloom.

But when they’re in bloom and the weather is good, it’s definitely time for lunch in the park under the cherry blossoms (along with tens of thousands of your closest friends, all of whom had the same idea). Of course, cherry trees have been planted where they can be enjoyed most: in parks, around temples, near castles and along streams. Everyone waits until the day, once each spring, when the chance comes again to go to a favorite spot and luxuriate in the beauty. (And, usually, drink some beer or sake.)

no blossom
has ever realized
how we wait!

Soseki, circa 1520

The brief and delicate nature of the sakura is often likened to a woman’s beauty, and indeed is one of the most popular design elements on a woman’s kimono. In the age of bushido, the samurai also made connections with flowers.  Some were to be avoided because they portended ill; but the sakura in particular symbolized a life that was short but magnificent.

Also a symbol of the passage of time, the sakura is associated with April, which marks a new Japanese fiscal year for businesses and the start of a new school year for students. In effect, the sakura’s bloom and death marks the start of a new stage of life in all spheres of activity.

from evening
no sleep, tomorrow
blossom-viewing

Tekijin, 18th c.

Perhaps it’s penance for not doing any hanami last year, but for whatever reason, I did a lot of flower viewing this year. And, indeed, I was well rewarded for my efforts.

This year, on the first real peak day of hanami in Osaka, I hopped on my bicycle and rode to Osaka Castle Park, which turns out to be much closer to the area in which I live than I’d imagined. When you ride the trains too much, you think of your routes in terms of train lines and connections.  By bicycle, you merely have to think about where to park it when you get to your destination.  (This is not a trivial point. There are hordes of illegally parked bicycles in Osaka, and they routinely get swept away en masse by the city.)

The trip was not in vain, for I was immediately treated to a scene of flower petals crowned by the Osaka castle on the hill in the distance. As I got closer to the castle, the large number of cherry trees in the park became more and more evident. This year the blossoms were mostly white with a slight trace of pink, though from previous years I know that other varieties of sakura with bright red petals bloom slightly later.

People, people everywhere

Why do people really love hanami so much? Flower viewing is really a big social event. If the weather’s nice, you can expect the grounds around temples and other famous landmarks, as well as riverbanks and even local parks, to be dotted with blue tarps on which groups from work, social circles or families will be spread out for lunch amid the splendor.

In fact, the normal reserved demeanor of most Japanese goes out the window during flower viewing. It’s not unusual to see people drinking sake at an alarming rate. And it need not be said that drinking and noise seem to go together. But, on the whole, people enjoying hanami are quite well behaved.  And this is a good thing, because every season there is a remarkably large number of people who take in this ad hoc festival.

Walking through the park, I was met with more than just the flowers and the people. First of all, there was lots of grilling going on. I think that on top of those blue tarps more yakitori was being made than at the busiest yakitori restaurant on a good day — despite the fact that cooking is prohibited on the grounds of Osaka Castle. It seems that this rule is overlooked on this occasion. (For anyone Japanese to overlook a rule is itself quite unusual!)

In addition, there were all manner of people performing acts of one kind or another.  One pair of flautists was performing traditional Japanese music before a large crowd. A young woman closer to the castle was having her dog perform tricks for another crowd.  On top of this were the group tours whose leaders were running around with their tour flags held high, so as to be seen over the heads of the other tourists.

But the main players in this story are the castle, its fortress walls and the sakura that overlook what once was an important defense to Toyotomi Hideyoshi, who originally built the complex. Over the years, Osaka castle has been built, put under siege, burned, rebuilt, struck by lightning, repaired, neglected and restored. Today, the rebuilt and restored castle is magnificent, and all the more so when one sees the beauty of the cherry blossoms in full bloom near the watchtowers.

the mountain
as one tree blooming
with our spirit

Sogi, 1502

Himeji

The next day, I decided to jump on a superexpress train and travel to Himeji to see the flowers around one of Japan’s so-called “three famous castles,” Himeji-jo. Getting there was easy: I took local trains to the Shin-Osaka train station and then switched to a Nozomi superexpress shinkansen train to Himeji — a mere 30 minutes west of Osaka on this high-speed train.

I’d never been to Himeji before, but of course have heard many things about what an impressive and historic place it is. No matter what you might have heard or what photos you might have seen, Himeji-jo is even more amazing than you could imagine. Towering over the castle-city of Himeji, this citadel is far more of a central landmark than, say, Osaka Castle is to Osaka. In addition, Himeji Castle was one of the first sites in Japan to be accorded the status of World Heritage Site by UNESCO.

Built in phases during the period 1346-1618, Himeji Castle has served as the headquarter for several important families in Japanese history, yet has never fallen or been destroyed. As an amazing footnote to this last point, a firebomb was dropped on the main tower of Himeji-jo near the end of the Second World War, yet the device miraculously did not explode, allowing the building to survive in nearly mint condition to the present day. Today the castle is an important landmark and tourist attraction; it is frequently featured on television.

Immediately beneath the castle’s front gate is a park that, on the occasion of hanami season, was not only packed with spectators but also completely surrounded by sakura trees. Much like in Osaka, many people came to the park around lunchtime to relax on a blue tarp along with coworkers, friends or family. I had originally planned to visit the interior of the castle, but the line of tourists waiting to see the building was so long that it would have taken hours of waiting in the bright sunlight to make it inside, so I decided to spend the afternoon in the park instead.

Chance encounter

While I was milling around the park watching the goings-on, I happened to meet a woman from the city of Nagoya, where she recently retired as a middle school teacher. We struck up a conversation and, despite my sometimes halting Japanese, spent 30 or 45 minutes in a fun and spirited discussion about all manner of things, including the Japanese education system, calligraphy, the difficulties of learning Japanese as a foreigner, post-war Japan and, of course, Himeji-jo.

Meeting and having nice conversations with random Japanese is one of the most lovely things about traveling around Japan. My own level of Japanese is perhaps good enough to hold small talk, but I am confronted continually by an unknown vocabulary word here and there, which makes fluid conversations a bit hard sometimes. Yet, the Japanese I’ve met over the years almost universally are just as anxious about their ability to express themselves in English.  This makes for something of a detente: neither side would even think about complaining about the others’ linguistic failings. The result can make for a very enjoyable time.

Heading home

I left Himeji park in really great spirits, noticing along the way that the bridge, as well as the gate it services, are named after the sakura.  It was probably named that hundreds of years ago.

As I headed back to the train station, I realized that I had not eaten lunch, despite the fact that it was after 3 PM.  So, before entering the train station for the ride home, I stopped off at a small kissaten coffee shop for a bite to eat.  After all, the fried oysters looked particularly good.  When I entered, I found that I was the only customer; it was obvious (based on the pile of just-washed dishes) that the staff had been very busy up until just recently and were cooling their heels for a moment.  But, even though there were no other customers, as soon as I walked in the door, I was greeted with a hearty irrashai!, the customary greeting in these parts, and they got right to work on my order.

Shortly after that, another customer (obviously a ‘regular’ at this place) came in and sat at the counter, one seat away from me.  The three employees and the customer talked for quite a long time while I read a book and waited for my meal.  Suddenly, the customer offered me a beer out of the blue and I responded with a thank you in Japanese.  Well, needless to say, this started yet another long and very enjoyable conversation, engaging him and the staff as well.

It was the cap to a fantastic day and an equally memorable week.  The rain was to come in just a few days, washing the petals away for yet another year.

rain! clever me
coming to view blossoms
the day before

Kito, 1789