My own little piece of Ueno Park, right here in Indy

It's 桜 (さくら - sakura), or cherry blossom, season in Japan, a popular time for getting outside with friends, family, lovers, and coworkers. All over the country, throngs of picnickers can be seen participating in 花見 (はなみ - hanami), or flower viewing, as they sit under the trees and ponder the transience of beauty and life while enjoying tasty sakura-themed お弁当 (おべんとう - obentou) boxed lunches, 酒 (さけ - sake), and ビール (biiru - beer). But Japan isn't the only place where you can enjoy sakura in bloom. Guess what I found in my side yard on this rainy morning?

What an overcast sky! Are we sure this isn't Tokyo?

Can't see it? Check the bottom right area of the photo.

...still nothing? Here, I'll bring it in for a closer look.

The first blossoms on my new tree!

OK, so maybe it's not quite time to get the tarps out and start making merry on my lawn, but I'm tickled pink to be able to have my own little piece of Japan here in the American Midwest. Thanks to a nearby garden center, I no longer have to be relegated to viewing mere photos of sakura; I can look out the window and enjoy the real thing.

A shot of the planting process

Planting your own cherry tree is within reach, as long as your local climate isn't too harsh. Sakura are found all over Japan--even in the northern island of Hokkaido--so they can tolerate a wide range of temperatures. Before planting anything, it's always wise to check your Plant Hardiness Zone for a general idea of what should grow in your area, but remember to take micro-climates, soil makeup, and other factors into account. Even more importantly: call 811 before you dig! (Seriously--do it. Always better to be safe than sorry! It's easy and free, and now you can even fill out a locate request online via that link.)

Also, keep in mind that not all sakura are the same. Over 600 varieties are grown in Japan, and they can have rather striking differences. The specific type I chose to plant in my yard was the 染井吉野 / ソメイヨシノ (そめいよしの - somei yoshino), labeled by my local garden center as a "Yoshino Flowering Cherry" or Prunus yedoensis. (Pro tip: when in doubt, go with the scientific/Latin name to ensure you're getting the correct variety. Nerd tip: "Yedo" is an alternate romanized version of "Edo," Tokyo's former name!) The yoshino cherry is cold hardy to -10 to -20 degrees Fahrenheit, safe enough for the average central Indiana winter, and should reach an average size of 40 feet tall by 30 feet wide.

Q: How do you get a cherry tree home? A: Very carefully.

Once you find a cherry tree you like, you have to act fast. I spotted a few great trees at the garden center on a Monday, and returned Wednesday night to find that all but one were gone. I don't own a truck, so we had to make do with what we had. I was skeptical that we would be able to get an 16 foot tree into my Nissan Versa (or Tiida in Japan), but my engineer husband found a way, and we carefully made our way home. Before this experience, I had never bought a tree for full price--much less paid for a tree to be delivered--so we made it work!

I chose to plant the yoshino cherry because Ueno Park is famous for this specific variety, as seen in one of my previous posts. Ueno Park holds a special place in my heart; it was the first place my husband and I really got to enjoy being surrounded by clouds of cherry blossoms during our first trip to Japan in 2013. The seasonal beauties drew crowds of people--big crowds--and the congestion and traffic caused us to miss our flight back to the U.S. Around this time last year, we had our first hanami in Ueno Park with my mother. She still talks about the delicious bento we prepared for the occasion.

While I'm a big proponent of native flora, I couldn't help but plant something that took me back to my time in Japan. My single cherry tree with its lonely couple of blossoms may not seem like much to passersby, but for my Japanese culture otaku self to have a reminder of a place I love so dearly in my own backyard, it's a true joy.

A friendly cashier and shidare-zakura

At a certain supermarket on the edge of Tokyo's Toshima ward, there works an especially friendly cashier. While other cashiers may balk at the sight of foreigners, this one doesn't: she always greets us with a smile and a hearty こんばんはー！(konbanwa! - good evening!), and lets us try out our rudimentary Japanese with her as she practices her (admittedly far more proficient) English with us. This friendly cashier is the one who hooked me up with my very first point card in Japan--a bit of a slippery slope!--and continues to give us helpful advice and tips.

It's April now, so many varieties of cherry blossoms have already fallen and given way to green leaves, but I still find myself thinking about March's beautiful blossoms. Last month, we saw some of the most unique blooms yet thanks to that cashier's advice: go to Komagome Station and visit Rikugien Garden. What I was expecting was what I had seen at places like Ueno Park: the Somei-yoshino (染井吉野「ソメイヨシノ」) cherry, the most widespread variety in Japan. (See one of my old Photo Friday posts about it here!) What we found at Rikugien was something markedly different...breathtaking, even, for nature lovers like me.

A panoramic photo my husband took of the largest weeping cherry tree at Rikugien

I didn't realize it before visiting, but Rikugien is known for its shidare-zakura (枝垂桜 「シダレザクラ」), or weeping cherry trees. There are a handful of these trees there, but the one pictured above is the largest (and the most popular, as evidenced by the crowd seen in the photo).

Another one of my husband's photos showing a closeup of one of the branches. He wasn't afraid to step through the crowds for a quick picture...something more timid folks (like me) are a little hesitant to do!

Constructed in 1702 by Yanagisawa Yoshiyasu, daimyo of the Kawagoe domain, the layout of Rikugien (六義園) was inspired by waka poetry. Today, Rikugien is appreciated as a typical example of an Edo period garden. During sakura season--roughly late March through early April--nightly illuminations are held until 9 p.m., featuring a gorgeous view of the sakura after dark. The people of the Edo period would have loved this modern-day take on hanami, and it's well worth the admission fee.

One of my photos of the weeping cherry

Yesterday we went back to the grocery store and chatted with that friendly cashier. We hadn't seen her since we had been away on a vacation outside of Tokyo. We told her we had taken her advice and visited Rikugien, and showed her our photos of the weeping cherry trees. 良かった！, she said with a laugh, giddy that we took her advice. In English, she told us that she had been waiting for us to return.

It's exchanges with everyday people like this that I'll miss when I return to America. True, we've made friends with people at places we frequent in the U.S. (Nina, Emi, and Chelsea at our favorite Japanese restaurant; Michael at the winery; Dave at the grocery store), but there's something different about making connections with people outside of one's home country. It makes the world feel smaller, somehow. When people say that Tokyoites are too busy for small talk or have no interest in chatting with foreigners, I think of the exchanges I've had with people--especially with my favorite cashier--and try to explain that that's not always the case. Japanese people can indeed be intimidated by foreigners, sometimes because they feel as though their English is not up to par. However, if you appear friendly and approachable, you might be surprised by the connections you make.

If you'd like to visit Rikugien Garden in Bunkyo-ku, it's is a short walk south of Komagome Station, accessible from the Yamanote Line and the Tokyo Metro Namboku Line. The standard entrance fee to the garden is ¥300 for adults.