Old Calendar, New Beginnings
Early February, and snow lies heavy on the land here in the mountains of central Japan. Now’s the time of year when, if the temperature crests above freezing, the sun’s warmth feels like the presence of a long-awaited friend. And while the blooming of the countryside is some ways off, suddenly Risshun is upon us—the first day of spring according to the traditional Japanese calendar.
Walking through the village in my winter jacket, plumes of breath rising, it sure doesn’t feel like spring. But in the traditional Japanese way of reckoning the seasons, equinoxes and solstices mark their height, not their beginning. For agrarian societies, it makes sense. Farmers timed their activities according to the progression of the sun through the heavens and changes in the natural environment. The whole calendar hinged on the coming of spring. Early February’s Risshun marks the point when the land can start looking forward to the melting of the snow, the singing of birds in the hills, the fish reappearing from the ice-covered ponds.
Here in the village, the days have grown noticeably longer. Now we awaken to pale light on the curtains rather than complete darkness. Dusky thrushes and rose finches have been dropping in, the first of the year’s migratory birds.
Soon, I’ll be turning 50. In the days surrounding Risshun, I finished the final draft of my first novel. This website finally came to fruition. And to our great surprise, we found out we’re expecting our first child.
Despite the deep ice of winter, something new is stirring. Right on the cusp of spring.
