In the traditional Japanese palette, the color green is a relatively recent distinction. For much of Japan’s history, what we now identify as green was encompassed within the broader category of ao. Historically, ao did not refer solely to what is called blue in English. Rather, it described a wide range of hues.

Appearing shortly after Summer Solstice, Mid-Summer flora emerge. The season when we greet one another not with a simple good morning or good evening, but add that we cannot believe that we are already "circling back".

Mid-summer in the Japanese archipelago means that irises begin to unfurl their distinctive blooms. Irises carry medicinal significance, as well as aesthetic. Though often grouped together under the term “iris,” in Japan we categorize irises into three types: shobu, ayamé, and kakitsubata. Each refers to a different species with unique habitats, forms, and cultural associations.

Prunella with its violet flower spikes, appear briefly before withering in the heat. Utsubogusa has long been used in traditional Japanese medicine for its cooling and anti-inflammatory properties. In traditional medicinal practices, it has been categorized as bitter and cold, suited to clearing internal heat and reduce swelling.

As rice paddies fill with water and fireflies show-off their light, a subtle change unfolds in nearby gardens, orchards, and mountain groves​. The green fruit of the umé tree begins to ​ripen into a blushed yellow. 

Our ancestors believed that fireflies were born from decaying grass. This impression may have arisen from the hidden transformation of their larvae, which pupate within the soil and later emerge as glowing adults. The mystery of hotaru seemed to spring forth from withering vegetation.

The emergence of the praying mantis marks an early summer transition. Tiny hatchlings, newly released from their protective eggs, hop onto the surrounding grasses. Kamakiri is one of the few insects widely recognized across Japan as a beneficial presence in the field.

This microseason marks the Autumn of Wheat. Golden fields flood the Japanese countryside. Stalks heavy with ripe grain sway in the breeze. Whilst early June, “Autumn” is leveraged to express that wheat has fully matured and harvest season is upon us.

Vibrant orange-red benibana flourish across Japan​ this time of year. Benibana is deeply rooted in Japan’s traditional dyeing culture​, creating a spectrum of reds. ​T​he valuable benibana dye ​was once essential in​ the textile arts and courtly garments, as well as an aromatic oil used in traditional medicines and cuisine. Without benibana, ​kimono, hair accessories, and lip coloring ​would lack their distinctive hues.

This late May microseason marks the moment when silkworms awaken and begin to feed on fresh mulberry leaves. This is not merely a biological observation but a cultural marker, announcing the beginning of Japan’s traditional sericulture, the cultivation of silkworms and the production of raw silk. 

Young bamboo spears push through the earth during this microseason. With their tensile strength, rapid growth, and elegant verticality, bamboo has long played a foundational role in Japanese life, not only for its aesthetic appeal but for its enduring utility across architecture, craft, cuisine, and ritual.

​Earthworms hatch during this microseason, and come into full activity by ​m​id Summer. A small but profound signal of the earth’s awakening​. ​Like in many cultures around the world, earthworms ​a​re referred to as "nature’s plough". ​They turn and aerate the soil through their constant burrowing, enriching the earth as they go. ​

It's the first of Summer and frogs begin to sing. As temperatures rise, rice paddies and country meadows fill with the resonant chorus of frogs, their voices marking the full emergence of the season. These early calls signal more than a shift in weather. They announce the beginning of the agricultural cycle.

Botan, known as the “King of a Hundred Flowers,” unfurls its voluminous petals. The flowering of the peony has long been recognized as a turning point in the traditional microseasonal calendar. With a bloom period of roughly ten days, the peony appears just as Spring prepares to give way to Summer. Its presence is not merely decorative, but an unmistakable sign of change.

Weather warms and frost surrenders, mark​ing the preparation of seedbeds, or nawashiro. ​The sound of water ​being drawn into the paddies​ can be heard all across the countryside, and the earth is carefully leveled. This attention to detail in ​preparing the land ​h​as a direct correlation to the health of the rice ​a​s it grows. An masterful skill to ensure that ​harvest can sustain ​a​n entire community ​over a full year. ​​

Slender shoots of reeds, including ashi or yoshi, emerge in wetlands and riverbanks, signaling the arrival of Spring’s full embrace. Reeds, with their tall, graceful forms, are a quintessential feature of the Japanese landscape. These perennial plants are known for their remarkable versatility. Their hollow, sturdy stalks have served us for centuries, particularly in the creation of sudaré, the traditional bamboo screen.

Rainbows, unseen through the dry clarity of Winter, return as Spring air is nourished with water. Known in Japanese as hatsu-niji, the first rainbow is visual seasonal marker. Though rainbows are typically considered Summer vocabulary in Japanese poetry, hatsu-niji belongs to late Spring, offering a glimpse of transition to come. Always positioned opposite the sun, morning rainbows appear in the west, and evening rainbows in the east.

As spring unfolds, the natural world orchestrates a series of migratory transitions. In synchrony with the arrival of swallows, geese commence their northward journey to regions such as Siberia and North America. There, they will nest and rear their young, returning to Japan with the onset of Autumn. The cyclical nature of their migration has long been emblematic of seasonal rhythms and has inspired numerous artistic and literary works throughout Japanese history.​

When cherry blossoms fall, willow trees sway in the wind, and Spring rains begin, swallows ride the warm southern breeze back to Japan. After spending Winter in southern islands, swallows travel thousands of kilometers. Gliding effortlessly over rice paddies, their arrival marks the true start of farming season.

Kaminari, thunder, is a homonym for the roar of the gods. With Spring thunder the mountain god descends to watch over rice fields, ensuring a bountiful harvest. We say that “a year with many thunderstorms will be a year of abundant harvest.” Depicted as an ogre spirit striking drums that he carries on his back to produce thunder, Raijin, the thunder god is a classic figure in Japanese mythology.