Portland Japanese Garden

by Lynn Geis

Throughout the land, blossoms are in their prime: on every ridge a white cloud lingers.
—Saigyo, twelfth century poet

Springtime in Japan: nightly television broadcasts include reports on the “cherry blossom front” and the progression of blooming sakura (flowering cherry trees) from the southern prefectures to the northern reaches of Japan. The small landmass of the four main islands of Japan is stretched from the 32nd to the 45th parallel (on the east coast of the U.S., that’s from Georgia to Maine), with climates ranging from sub-tropical Kyushu to Hokkaido where the snow may not melt until May. Japanese from Nagasaki to Sapporo anticipate the lovely spectacle of lightly scented cherry blossoms, creating a pale pink canopy that will only last a few days until the first spring rain washes the beauty away.

The sakura is native to Japan, and for centuries large numbers of them have been planted in parks and public gardens. Hana Mi (flower viewing) parties follow the cherry blossom front and the following scene is repeated throughout the country: it is a sunny afternoon in April and a young sa-ra-ri-man (salaryman or office worker) sits on a reed mat looking bored. He might be reading a manga (adult comic book) while he takes his turn staking out a prime spot and waiting for the relief man. Other lone men are sitting on mats and vinyl tarps all over the park. After work, salarymen, OL (office ladies), and their supervisors will congregate on the mats for an enkai (drinking party). People will bring food, someone has promised to bring a karaoke set, and there will be plenty of sake. When the festivities are in full swing, singing in Japanese and English will fill the air. Listen carefully, you’re bound to hear “Moon River.” As exuberance—or sake—overrides inhibition, some people will dance in their stocking feet on the mats. In true Japanese fashion, shoes will be neatly lined up around the edge of the mat.

On weeknights the groups are predominately contingents of work groups. On weekends, families or groups of friends take over the parks, bringing o-bento (honorable lunch boxes), karaoke sets, and more sake!

My friend Satoshi explained that a long time ago people believed that kami (spirits of ancestors) caused the trees to burst into bloom. To admire the blossoming trees was to revere the kami. They also believed that some people were possessed by kami and had supernatural powers. The easiest way for common people to be “possessed” was to get a little drunk on sake. Satoshi said that the word “sake” derived from saku, the verb “to bloom.”

The custom has a long history. Hana Mi that were held in the gardens of the nobility are described in The Tale of Genji, a novel written during the Heian Period (794-1185). A popular aristocratic pastime was having a poetry competition, with guests vying to impress each other with verses composed on the spot. Cherry blossoms were seen as symbols of the transience of life, perfect for poetic allusion.

Cherry flowers,
the image of
our fleeting world—
no sooner have they opened
than they begin to fall.
—Anonymous poet, ninth century

Reverence for nature is integral to Shintoism, the indigenous spiritual practice of the Japanese. A cherry blossom party offers a perfect blend of ancient traditions and contemporary desire to relax on a spring evening with friends.

Poems are from An Anthology of Japanese Poetry from the Country of Eight Islands, edited and translated by Hiroaki Sato and Burton Watson, Anchor Press, 1981.

Lynn Geis writes monthly articles on Japanese culture and crafts for Yuuyake Shimbun, a newspaper published in Portland, Oregon by Pacific Rim Publications. Please write to kcobb@japanesegarden.com for information regarding reprint rights. © 2006