Fizzing blossoms point to more than four seasons

ONE of Japan’s 72 microseasons occurs at this time of March: the first blossoms of the year. In the Japanese calendar it is the first peach blossoms which are noted occurring between March 11-15. The Sakura, or cherry blossom season, runs from March 26-30. During the weeks in between, the previously dormant tree canopy explodes into life.

Travelling from south to north across the country, I’ve noticed we are in in the full throes of our own blossom microseason. The blackthorn is sparkling, marsh marigolds unfurling in buttery gold across the flood plains and fruit trees beginning to pop.

In accordance with the Japanese seasons, the nectarine in my dad’s London garden is now in riotous neon-pink blossom. And his annual battle to distract the wood pigeons from gobbling them all is under way.

These first blooms of the year are perhaps the most welcome of all. After this interminable wash-out winter, it tells us that things are finally warming up (and hopefully drying out).

While this weekend there will be yet more rain (particularly so in western areas) there will also be longer dry periods. “Feeling warm in the sunshine” is the bit in the weekend forecast to which I cling.

Now the blooms are out, you can count them like clockwork. Peach, plum, pear, then the explosion of cherry (although down south I note some are already out).

My own favourite is the hawthorn in my front garden, which foams over in white flowers like a burst bottle of champagne at some point around May.

We will, I suspect, all have our own personal tree like this. Either standing in a garden or street corner, the one we keep a close eye on as a waymark for the four main points of the year.

It is not just the Japanese who have microseasons. They represent something rooted in us all.

Cherry blossoms out in force in London