One Good Thing: Watching the cherry blossoms in the end times


One of those things is the coming of the cherry blossoms. Every spring on Japans 4 main islands, from the bottom reaches of Kyushu to the southern idea of Hokkaido, the nation stops briefly to witness the sakura, the brief blooming of the cherry blossoms. Its a minute, a few days at a lot of, when a nation that otherwise feels as though it is in perpetual motion, comes to a halt to engage in hanami– collecting to see the blooms, well, bloom.
You could say that the cherry blossom is the national symbol of Japan, and while you would be trespassing into cliché, you would not be wrong, precisely. As the sakura season starts, you can see the most junior employees, entrusted with securing a picnic area for the office hanami, flocking to 1,000 cherry blossom seeing spots around the country so their superiors can consume and consume in full view of the trees.

For outsiders who cant withstand the urge to make sweeping generalizations that will later prove highly awkward, Japan supplies especially harmful ground. As someone who invested parts of 2006 and 2007 as a foreign reporter in Tokyo, I need to understand.
Its a culture that seems to rollover practices essentially the same over millennia, yet accepts the new relentlessly, an island nation that dwelled in enforced isolation for centuries, yet eagerly adjusted the foreign when offered, from shock teaching Western industrialization after the Meiji Restoration in 1868 to the packs of leather-clad, 1950s-style rockers I would see gathering in Yoyogi park on Sunday afternoons. Land of contrasts and all that. Tread carefully here, and understand the lots of, lots of things you dont understand.
Every spring on Japans four primary islands, from the bottom reaches of Kyushu to the southern suggestion of Hokkaido, the country stops briefly to witness the sakura, the short flowering of the cherry blossoms. Its a minute, a couple of days at a lot of, when a nation that otherwise feels as though it is in perpetual motion, comes to a halt to engage in hanami– gathering to see the blossoms, well, bloom.
You might state that the cherry blossom is the nationwide sign of Japan, and while you would be trespassing into cliché, you wouldnt be incorrect, exactly. Saga was the first Japanese emperor to arrange a hanami event early in the 9th century advertisement, and the “Tale of Genji,” maybe the worlds very first book, includes scenes of aristocrats celebrating hanami. In 1594, the terrific Shogun Hideyoshi Toyotomi held a five-day hanami celebration for 5,000 participants in Yoshino, part of a custom that would continue, spring after spring, to the current day.
Each year as the winter diminishes, Japanese look to the sakura zensen, the cherry bloom report, to know when and where the trees will flower. As the sakura season begins, you can see the most junior employees, charged with protecting a picnic spot for the workplace hanami, gathering to 1,000 cherry blossom viewing areas around the country so their superiors can eat and drink in complete view of the trees.
And why do they come? Maybe like the 17th-century haiku master Matsuo Basho, they wish to engage in mono no conscious, the art of valuing impermanence, represented by the flowers that flower each year in a short-term sparkle of pink and white, prior to being up to the earth. “How numerous, many things/ they call to mind/ These cherry blossoms!/ Very brief–“.
Or possibly, as I carried out in my one very quick Tokyo spring, they come for the celebration. During that a person week in spring, in the capitals relatively few parks– per person, Tokyoites delight in possibly a quarter of the greenery of a local of New York or London– the sakura display with a riot of color that offsets the neon and the concrete. Theres no much better place to be than underneath those airy boughs on an April evening, drinking sake and beer with colleagues and pals.
Yes, the blooms are lovely not simply in themselves but in their brevity, a truth which they remind us of when they inevitably fall to the ground after the bottles and the bento boxes have actually been cleared. “If the cherry bloom can still be relied upon to flower at a specific time, it can likewise be relied upon to die quickly after,” the novelist Hanya Yanagihara wrote in 2019.
The turning of the seasons provide rhythm and meaning in Japan, with its “distinct and strenuous sense of visual appeals, one that has actually been founded on an event of seasonality.” Many of my memories of my time in Japan are tied to the seasons: the turning of the autumn leaves as I walked the temples of Kyoto with my mother; the snowflakes finishing the grounds of the Imperial Palace one winter night; the paper lanterns of the Obon celebration glowing along a Tokyo alley on a hot August night. And yes, hanami in the spring, always in the spring.
Its not the 7 days of bloom that provide hanami its significance, however the 51 weeks of waiting on either side– waiting, however understanding the time will return, as it always has. The blossoming may be short, but the earliest of the trees can live for centuries or even longer. Through earthquakes, tsunamis, revolutions, and war, the trees have their turn, as trustworthy as the spinning of the Earth.
Which is why what has taken place to the sakura season in recent years is so disquieting. In 2020 and 2021, pandemic constraints closed Japan to foreign travelers and halted hanami parties, the latter a loss that Tokyo Gov. Yuriko Koike compared to “taking hugs far from Italians.” Limitations in the capital were finally raised this spring, simply a few days before the trees reached full bloom on March 22, offering a long-needed dose of normality, even as omicron-driven case counts drifted upward.
As the climate has actually warmed in Japan, the timing of the blossoming has actually altered, perhaps even postponing some flowering. One research study of Washington, DCs own iconic cherry trees– a present from the Japanese government more than a century back– approximated that with moderate warming, peak blossom could be 5 days earlier by the 2050s and 10 days earlier by the 2080s.
All is change worldwide, as the Buddha said, and to experience hanami is to appreciate that beauty is inseparable from impermanence. However what comforts the pains of seeing the blooms is the pledge that they will return again and again. Must that be lost, then all we will have left is loss.
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