This is such a beautiful but sad piece, I found myself crying as I read it to be honest. I appreciate your advice about focusing on what we can control. It's wonderful that you have honoured the memory of these beautiful trees by telling their story. Thank you.
Hiroko: There are so many points in this reflection on plum and plum blossoms that I don't know where to begin. I have mentioned that I lived many years in western Japan so you won't be surprised to learn that I visited Dazaifu Ten-man-gu many times - and saw in each corner of the courtyard red and white plums - including the white one in front of the Shrine you have included with your essay. And in the shopping/stalls - one can purchase Ume-gae-mochi (from renowned Nakamura-ya) which is one of my favourite Japanese "cakes" (along with momiji manju on Miyajima - especially from the tea shop Fujii-ya). Over my final five years in Japan I walked the Hagi Ōkan section between Yamaguchi-city and Hagi some nine times - by myself - with friends or small groups. Never in the summer (too many snakes it was said) - but in the autumn, winter - including tramping through snow to just below the knee) and in the spring. I was one very cold day walking to the bottom of a lengthy section of four or five km - no sign of habitation or farming - through the forest - when I smelt the plum blossom from a little orchard field. I know my spirits lifted at once - aware that spring really was on its way. Hurrah! Further on - on the outskirts of Hagi - a whole park with various colours of plum bursting into blossom. Yes indeed - mad is the person who prunes the cherry - but mad, too, the one who does NOT prune the plum! SUGAWARA Michizane-kō on his journey into exile reached Hōfu which now has a major Shrine dedicated to him - friends were part of its priestly staff - and was then commencing to cross the western Seto Inland Sea to Usa in present-day Ōita-ken to go overland to Dazaifu when a storm blew up and his vessel with retinue was blown off course to Kajigaeshi (now a part of Ube-city - further along the coast westwards from Hōfu) waiting out the storm before - in calmer waters - crossing to Usa and on to Dazaifu. There is a small Shrine at Kaji-gae-eshi (literally I think - Turn Back the Oars - you'll translate it better) and every entrance exam time it is visited by students writing their "ema" with wishes for exam success or with specifics about which high school or which university they want to enter. Not long before I left Japan I was invited to take part in the grand Hadaka-Matsuri (Gojinko-sai) associated with Hōfu Tenman-gū - which was - in that year 2008 - I think the 1205th occurrence of that festival. And yes - plum trees planted all around the Shrine, too. Of course. Jim
Thank you for this beautiful post. My husband read it first and he warned me that I might need to have a handkerchief handy. I wondered if the poor old lady was aware that her lovely trees were going to have to be destroyed- I do hope she was spared that knowledge.
There is such beauty in your shared sadness. Thank you.
My (Japanese) husband are planning to retire to Japan, where we first met more than thirty years ago. As we look at properties, I also wonder how many plants I will be able to grow. Plums, camellia, cherry, kumquat, loquat, sudachi, kabosu, yuzu, mikan, peach, apricot... the list seems endless...
Here in Seattle, there was a Japan plant boom in the 1970s. It was nice to relocate here and be reminded, botanically, of all the beauty I left behind.
I could feel like I was next door feeling my insides tie up as the construction workers came. I hope the plum trees keep coming back to your life in some form ( and your neighbour's) even if the parent is gone. This was a very moving and wonderful piece, thank you.
Thank you for sharing this lovely story! I too am a tree lover and am fond of the plum tree. My last apartment in Fukuoka had a gorgeous plum tree near it. I loved the delicate scent of its blossoms heralding spring as I walked home from the station on a cold evening at the end of winter. I hope you can see the tobu ume one day. It is magnificent!
Thanks for sharing. It reminds me of the feeling when a favorite store closes or a favorite artist passes away. The feeling that you will never enjoy another season with that particular tree. As with all loved ones it is right to mourn, and to grieve, and to memorialize how they made you feel, for it was real.
We lost the Ash tree in our village recently (some houses are called [no] Ash View) so it was pretty old. Sadly it developed Ash die back disease and became unsafe. Real loss to the village and makes me sad.
This is such a beautiful but sad piece, I found myself crying as I read it to be honest. I appreciate your advice about focusing on what we can control. It's wonderful that you have honoured the memory of these beautiful trees by telling their story. Thank you.
Thank you for reading. It makes me so, so sad. I wanted to write about it because memories have values. And remembering is important.
I completely understand. Similar things have happened in my neighbourhood here in Australia and I find it heartbreaking.
Hiroko: There are so many points in this reflection on plum and plum blossoms that I don't know where to begin. I have mentioned that I lived many years in western Japan so you won't be surprised to learn that I visited Dazaifu Ten-man-gu many times - and saw in each corner of the courtyard red and white plums - including the white one in front of the Shrine you have included with your essay. And in the shopping/stalls - one can purchase Ume-gae-mochi (from renowned Nakamura-ya) which is one of my favourite Japanese "cakes" (along with momiji manju on Miyajima - especially from the tea shop Fujii-ya). Over my final five years in Japan I walked the Hagi Ōkan section between Yamaguchi-city and Hagi some nine times - by myself - with friends or small groups. Never in the summer (too many snakes it was said) - but in the autumn, winter - including tramping through snow to just below the knee) and in the spring. I was one very cold day walking to the bottom of a lengthy section of four or five km - no sign of habitation or farming - through the forest - when I smelt the plum blossom from a little orchard field. I know my spirits lifted at once - aware that spring really was on its way. Hurrah! Further on - on the outskirts of Hagi - a whole park with various colours of plum bursting into blossom. Yes indeed - mad is the person who prunes the cherry - but mad, too, the one who does NOT prune the plum! SUGAWARA Michizane-kō on his journey into exile reached Hōfu which now has a major Shrine dedicated to him - friends were part of its priestly staff - and was then commencing to cross the western Seto Inland Sea to Usa in present-day Ōita-ken to go overland to Dazaifu when a storm blew up and his vessel with retinue was blown off course to Kajigaeshi (now a part of Ube-city - further along the coast westwards from Hōfu) waiting out the storm before - in calmer waters - crossing to Usa and on to Dazaifu. There is a small Shrine at Kaji-gae-eshi (literally I think - Turn Back the Oars - you'll translate it better) and every entrance exam time it is visited by students writing their "ema" with wishes for exam success or with specifics about which high school or which university they want to enter. Not long before I left Japan I was invited to take part in the grand Hadaka-Matsuri (Gojinko-sai) associated with Hōfu Tenman-gū - which was - in that year 2008 - I think the 1205th occurrence of that festival. And yes - plum trees planted all around the Shrine, too. Of course. Jim
Favorite post so far - thank you 🌸
such a beautiful story thank you Hiroko. i shared it with my wife who was moved.
i’m grateful as by coincidence we have a trip to Dazaifu in a couple weeks, now I have more awareness and context to enjoy the day.
thanks so much.
Empty-handed I entered the world
Barefoot I leave it.
My coming, my going---
Two simple happenings
That got entangled.
Kozan Ichikyo
(Death poems)
A sobering yet comforting poem, thank you.
Thank you for this beautiful post. My husband read it first and he warned me that I might need to have a handkerchief handy. I wondered if the poor old lady was aware that her lovely trees were going to have to be destroyed- I do hope she was spared that knowledge.
There is such beauty in your shared sadness. Thank you.
My (Japanese) husband are planning to retire to Japan, where we first met more than thirty years ago. As we look at properties, I also wonder how many plants I will be able to grow. Plums, camellia, cherry, kumquat, loquat, sudachi, kabosu, yuzu, mikan, peach, apricot... the list seems endless...
Here in Seattle, there was a Japan plant boom in the 1970s. It was nice to relocate here and be reminded, botanically, of all the beauty I left behind.
So sad. I’m glad you were able to gather some branches one last time and enjoy their beauty and the memories of your neighbor and her tender garden.
I could feel like I was next door feeling my insides tie up as the construction workers came. I hope the plum trees keep coming back to your life in some form ( and your neighbour's) even if the parent is gone. This was a very moving and wonderful piece, thank you.
Thank you for sharing this lovely story! I too am a tree lover and am fond of the plum tree. My last apartment in Fukuoka had a gorgeous plum tree near it. I loved the delicate scent of its blossoms heralding spring as I walked home from the station on a cold evening at the end of winter. I hope you can see the tobu ume one day. It is magnificent!
Thank you for this wonderful writing. Song behind the heart, sand in the air.
どうもありがとうございます.
しら梅に明る夜ばかりとなりにけり 蕪村
Thanks for sharing. It reminds me of the feeling when a favorite store closes or a favorite artist passes away. The feeling that you will never enjoy another season with that particular tree. As with all loved ones it is right to mourn, and to grieve, and to memorialize how they made you feel, for it was real.
This was a wonderful story. Thank you.
We lost the Ash tree in our village recently (some houses are called [no] Ash View) so it was pretty old. Sadly it developed Ash die back disease and became unsafe. Real loss to the village and makes me sad.
Glorious, Burcu!
C'est la vie!