Groundhogs Be Damned
On a Japanese calendar, February 3rd is 節分 (setsubun), the dividing of seasons. As is true for Imbolc and Saint Brigid’s Day, Setsubun marks a midpoint between December’s winter solstice (冬至, tōji) and March’s vernal equinox (春分, shunbun).
On the other end of my continent, a rodent named Phil offered a prognostication yesterday: six more weeks of winter.
Take heart: Setsubun denies that.
Plum blossoms like this one, from a tree at the VanDusen Gardens in Vancouver, give me great joy as winter looses it grip. (Losing your grip is a very different thing.) My friend Leanne does into greater detail about plum blossoms in this issue of her newsletter.
Standing for Spring
Setsubun divides winter from spring, and cold though February may be in places (it was 39F, 4C, here this morning) I embrace the next season with open arms.
February Third has another name on the Japanese calendar: 立春 (risshun). Literally the rising (or standing) of spring, I seize on that mental image. For indeed, around these parts, we see snowdrops blossoming, blades of crocus and daffodil breaking free from their wintry confines, and a few other early bloomers, like wintersweet and viburnum.
Viburnum is an early spring favorite here. The Washington Park Arboretum in Seattle is a great place for February walks when it isn’t raining.
Demons, You Say?
Setsubun is observed with a delightful tradition in Japan.
Handfuls of roasted soybeans are pitched out of open doors and windows as members of the household shout:
鬼は外! (oni wa soto!)
福は内!(fuku wa uchi!)
My very loose yet lyrical translation would be: Out, out, ye demons! We welcome good luck in!
I have attended Setubun ceremonies at the Tsubaki Shintō shrine in Granite Falls in years past, and volunteers appear, dressed as demons.
What does a Japanese demon look like? They have horns atop their heads of bushy, unwashed hair, they carry clubs, and they wear tiger skins about their loins. Oh, one critical detail: their skin can be bright red or vivid blue!
The soybeans pelt this poor demon mercilessly.
Traditionally, you’re supposed to eat a unique form of rolled sushi called an 恵方巻 (ehōmaki). What’s unique about? It contains seven fillings (although each family will have preferences regarding the best fillings—as long as there is a bit of omelet and some pickled dried gourd (干瓢, kanpyō), I’m happy), it cannot be cut, and you must eat it in one sitting. You should also eat it while facing the blessed direction (I’ll talk more about Japanese geomancy in a later issue but for now, know that the 恵方 (ehō) to face in this year is south by southeast).
A red demon showed up at our house today, too!
That’s All?
This is a shorter issue of Out of Japan, I admit. I am aiming to send out shorter issues weekly this year instead of longer rambles twice a month.
BUT you can get caught up with all of the back issues on my website for now. And if you’ve not ready my fourth issue, A Mighty Wind, it blew many of my readers away.
One More Thing
This newsletter is free for all subscribers. There are options within the substack platform for paid content; in May of 2023 I plan to share more information on tourism in Japan with paid subscribers. There is one additional level of membership: the founding plan. This is for people who are certain, as I am, that my memoir, Crying in a Foreign Language: The Deity That Answered My Plea, is destined for publication. At that founding plan level of membership, you earn first crack at the memoir: I will send you an advanced reader’s copy (physical or electronic) for you to delight in.
Thank you!
Thanks for this. I hope Setsubun is right!