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.

Sakura in my kitchen! めいび～！

I may live thousands of miles away from the cherry blossoms of Ueno Park, but that doesn't mean I can't still enjoy that beautiful Japanese harbinger of spring: sakura are in bloom in my kitchen! Take a look:

Beautiful, two-dimensional sakura...they'll never wilt!

OK, you got me...I don't have a cherry blossom tree anywhere near my kitchen. But April's picture in my Fushimi Inari Taisha calendar on the wall in my kitchen is gorgeous, don't you think?

I picked up the 2015 calendar in January, when we returned to Kyoto's famous shrine. (Even if you haven't been there, it should look somewhat familiar: the background of my blog is from a photo I took during our first visit in March 2013.) The calendar is actually bilingual--flip it one way it's in English, and flip it the other way it's in Japanese--with English and Japanese covers to boot...

Bilingual covers are in English and Japanese

The photo for each month usually has a seasonal theme, too: January's photo was of hatsumode, the first shrine visit of the new year, traditionally done on January 1; February's photo was of the Setsubun Festival on February 3, when dried beans are thrown to cast away demons and evil spirits; and March's photo was of Okushahohaijo, the pavilion where climbers pray for a safe ascent up Mt. Inari (perhaps because temperatures begin to warm up in March with the approach of spring, making a climb up the mountain a little less chilly).

L to R: Hatsumode in January, Setsubun in February, and a shrine pavilion for March

With a Japanese calendar comes a lot of things not seen on other calendars: aside from days of the week and months being marked with their appropriate kanji, there's also the curious text of 平成２７年 printed under 2015 (as seen on the middle panel of the photo above). This means "Heisei 27 Year"--or, the 27th year of the Heisei period.

In addition to observing the Gregorian calendar, the Japanese also observe different eras based on the current emperor's reign. The current era began with Heisei 1 on January 8, 1989, the day after the previous emperor, Hirohito, passed away, and his son Akihito took the throne. Hirohito's death marked the end of the Showa period--the name of Hirohito's era, ending at Showa 64--and began Akihito's Heisei period, with "Heisei" meaning "peace everywhere." As per Japanese custom, Hirohito was posthumously named Showa, and is typically referred to as "Emperor Showa" in Japan today; likewise, Emperor Akihito will be posthumously named Heisei.

Want to get your hands on a bona fide Japanese calendar, for this year or next? Aside from actually visiting Japan and picking one up there, websites like J-List will be your best bet: they ship all sorts of goodies from Japan and offer a wide variety of calendars, featuring subjects like anime, Japanese architecture, and traditional Japanese art. I've shopped with them before and highly recommend them! (Naturally, if you're looking for a calendar, it's best to shop toward the end of the year; popular subjects sell out quickly, so their current stock isn't a great representation of what they had at the end of last year.)

Photo Friday #3: Ueno Park hanami! フォト金曜日＃３：上野公園花見！

フォト金曜日＃３：上野公園花見！Photo Friday #3: Ueno Park hanami! 

As I wrote in Wednesday's Mini Post, the sakura (cherry blossoms) have opened in Tokyo! This week's Photo Friday entry takes a look at what Ueno Park will look like in a few days, when the sakura reach their peak...

Geisha performing amidst Ueno Park's sakura, March 23, 2013

Though Ueno Park opened to the public in 1873, hanami (flower-viewing) is a centuries-old tradition, stretching back to Japan's Nara and Heian periods (794-1185) when the Japanese elite first enjoyed parties under blossoming ume (plum) and sakura trees. Since then, hanami and sakura have become an important part of Japanese history and pop culture, from inclusion in The Tale of Genji to seasonal drinks at Starbucks.

As you can see in the photo above, Ueno Park, Japan's most-visited public city park, is one of the most popular spots in Tokyo for hanami. Every year, millions of people come to Ueno Park and its surrounding areas to see thousands of cherry trees in bloom. Nearby Ueno Station and Keisei Ueno Station become flooded with visitors, slowly walking shoulder-to-shoulder as they make their way to the park.

Once at the park, visitors are treated to traditional dance and music under millions of blooms, with picnickers enjoying delicious bento, sake, and beer on tarps or tatami mats. In the photo above, onlookers enjoy a performance by geisha, a rare treat in modern Japanese society. (Contrary to how Japan is sometimes portrayed, geisha aren't a common sight. During this trip, I briefly saw one on a Kyoto side street, presumably making her way to an appointment.)

I like this photo because it shows that foreign tourists aren't the only people fascinated by geisha; the entertainers are a bit of a dying breed, as fewer girls enter the profession in these modern times. Catching a glimpse of such a quintessentially Japanese sight, framed by sakura, was truly moving--and definitely worth missing our flight back to the U.S.

Mini Post: Tokyo sakura! ミニポスト：東京桜！

ミニポスト：東京桜！Mini Post: Tokyo sakura!

Oh, to be in Japan right now: the sakura, or cherry blossoms, have opened in Tokyo! Nothing heralds the arrival of spring in Japan quite like sakura in bloom.

According to japan-guide.com's Tokyo Report, the cherry blossoms in Ueno Park have just opened and are expected to be in full bloom by early next week. No doubt the hype surrounding hanami (flower-viewing) parties is building; in just a few days, Ueno Park will look something like this...

上野公園花見：Ueno Park hanami, March 23, 2013

Predicting when the sakura will bloom is something Japan takes very seriously, as the iconic flowers are not only culturally significant--among other things, they represent the beautiful, fleeting nature of life--but are also important for tourism and the economy. (Case in point: during my first trip to Japan, we missed our flight back to the U.S. because we were stuck in traffic after viewing the cherry blossoms in a very congested Ueno Park, which had been practically empty just a few days prior.)

Every year, organizations like the Japan Weather Association publish their sakura forecasts for cities throughout Japan, basing their predictions on weather trends while also considering past years' results. This year, the blossoms have opened slightly earlier than average--Tokyo's representative tree at Yasukuni Shrine began blooming on March 21--but during our 2013 trip, they set the record for the earliest opening since record-keeping began in 1953.

As with plants and flowers in the U.S., southern areas' warmer climates produce the country's first blooms as early as January (Okinawa), and northern areas' cooler temperatures delay the opening as late as May (Hokkaido).

This has been a Mini Post, a chibi-sized version of a regular meauxtaku post. You may now return to your regularly scheduled internet.