Spring is Over

[Note. This post was originally written in mid-July, two weeks after a long trip to Colorado, Wyoming, Idaho, and Montana. A week after a noisy, smoke filled July Fourth Weekend.]

Spring is long over. It is the middle of July and the weatherman is bemoaning the record heat on the east and west coast of the United States. And, although I am not there, a click on the computer tells me it will be in the 90s in Tokyo and there will be a mix of clouds and sun this morning followed by mostly cloudy skies and a few showers this afternoon.

Following Basho’s five month journey into Japan’s northern interior (Oku no Hosomichi) in 1689, Basho decided to delay his return to Edo to work on the notes he recorded and the haiku that he wrote on the journey. Throughout the fall and winter Basho spent time visiting with friends. Then, in the spring of 1690, a friend, Suganuma Kyokusui 菅沼曲水, offered up a cottage on Lake Biwa for Basho to rest and recoup.

This was the Genjū-an 幻住庵, the Hut of the Phantom Resident. Alone with his thoughts, Basho composed the “Notes of Genju-an,” (Genju-an-ki, 幻住庵記). The “phantom” for whom the cottage is named for an unknown samurai who abandoned his profession for seclusion.

“Spring is over. I can tell that it hasn’t been gone for long, for Azaleas continue to bloom, wisteria droops like rope from the pine trees, and a cuckoo now and then passes by. Even the blue-jays have sing their greetings, and woodpeckers, as woodpeckers do, peck at things, though I don’t really mind. Indeed, I rather enjoy the company.

I feel my spirit drawn to China to view the scenery in Wu or Chu (ancient Chinese States of the Warring Period when Confucius lived), or as if I were standing beside the lovely Xiao-Xiang rivers, or Lake Dongting. [see below]

Southwest of here, the mountains rises behind me. The nearest houses are a good distance away. Southern breezes with their refreshing fragrances blow down from the mountain tops, and north winds, dampened by the lake, are cool. Among the mountains are Mount Hie and the tall peak of Hira. And on this side of these mountains are the pines of Karasaki veiled in mist, as well as a castle, and a view of a bridge. On the lake fishermen with their boats are hauling in fish. I hear the voice of the woodsman making his way to Mount Kasatori. Then too, are the songs of the seedling planters in the rice paddies at the foot of Kasatori. At dusk, the fireflies weave through the air, clapper rails (chicken-like marsh birds) tap out their notes – surely I do not lack for beautiful scenes. Among them, Mikamiyama, shaped like Mount Fuji, reminds me of my old house in Edo – Musashino [see below]. Mt.Tanakami [see below] sets me to counting all the ancient poets who are associated with it.”
Matsuo Basho, from the Notes of Genju-an, Summer 1690

Notes. “You had to be there.” A phrase meaning Basho’s references only make sense if one had been present. It is a philosophical thing. Present impressions are best, then come memories, and by association an explanation of a place one has never to.

Lake Biwa. Japan’s largest inland lake. Basho spent much time here. He chose to be buried at the Gichū-ji Temple at Otsu, on Lake Biwa.

Hira Mountain Range, west of Lake Biwa providing a stunning snow capped view of the lake. Compare the Grand Tetons and Jackson, Wyoming.

Pine trees at Karasaki. Thousand year old pine trees, part of the Eight Views of Omi.

Xiao-Xiang. The Eight Views of Xiao-Xiang in Hunan province was a famous series of paintings from the Song dynasty. They, in turn, inspired the Eight Views of Omi, around Lake Biwa where Basho was staying. Basho is comparing Lake Dongting to Lake Biwa.

Mt. Mikamiyama, along the shores of Lake Biwa, an extinct volcano and much smaller version of Mt. Fuji.

Mushashino. This home in western Tokyo must have been Basho’s home when he first arrived in Edo before Basho-an.

Mt.Tanakami. It is known for its cypress trees. The reference is unclear. Perhaps because of Tanka 短歌, meaning a “short poem” and a genre of classical Japanese poetry.

The castle mentioned is likely Zeze Castle. The bridge Setanokara, see the image below.

P.S.

One always relies on others. Much of the information for this post, including the quote, comes from Gabi Greve, Darumapedia, Daruma Museum Japan.

Lake Biwa, from Hiroshige’s Eight Views of Omi

Hot, Hot, Hot


Beginning,
Sixth month, fifth day (19 July),
Oku no Hosomichi, 1689

From the Three Mountains of Dewa [Mts. Haguro, Gassan and Yudono], from the shrine at Mt. Haguro, to Tsuruoka, where as guests of samurai called Nagayama Shigeyuki, Basho attended a renga, then by boat to the ocean and Sakata.

One can always argue about the hottest time of day. It is not noon, for the thermometer is just heating up. Some say, 2 – 4, when the sun is on your back, but how about 4 – 6, when you’ve been out all day.

At the hottest time of day, the sun
splashes in the sea
— Mogami River

暑き日を 海に入れたり 最上川

Atsuki hi wo Umi ni iretari Mogamigawa
— Matsuo Basho, Sakata, late summer, Oku no Hosomichi, 1689

Note. For those trying to retrace Basho’s steps on the Oku no Hosomichi, it appears that he and Sora made their way into Dewa province on an ill-marked trail, then proceeded down the roaring Mogami River to Obanazawa. There they retraced their steps back to the Rissyakuji Temple at Yamadera.

The path of life is not always a straight. We go down the wrong road, we get lost, we turn back, eventually, we forge ahead.

Parasol Mushrooms

After the rain, little Japanese umbrellas, everywhere, planted in my garden.

After completing his epic journey into Japan’s northern interior (1689), Matsuo Basho spent several years visiting old friends in Kyoto where he spent his youth, and in and around Lake Biwa for some solitude like his mentor Saiygo, and in Ueno, the place of his birth. This was the last period of his life.

Matsutake mushrooms, ah,
clinging
precariously to a tree

松茸や  .  知らぬ  木の葉の  .  へばり付く
matsutake ya . shiranu konoha no . hebaritsuku

Matsuo Basho, Fall 1691

Basho returned to Edo as winter came on. It was a melancholy time as his nephew who he would care for was ill.

Matsutake mushrooms favor pine trees. They are known for their thick, fibrous white flesh and earthy, spicy flavor and aroma. Matsu meaning pine. Basho’s surname Matsu 松尾, a pine tree at the base of the mountain. In Japan, the pine tree symbolizes many things including longevity, steadfastness, and renewal.

Parasol Mushrooms, in contrast, love the grass and the garden where mulch abounds. I’ve seen them as far south as Dallas, Texas on walks through the woods, and in Kansas in my yard and garden. Always, after it rains.

Bashō no yōna (the author of this blog) lost an oak tree a month ago. What remains is the mulch. Perhaps that is why, after it rains, tiny umbrella like mushrooms have peppered my lawn for over a month. The Latin name is Parasola plicatilis. Popular names include: Pleated Inky Cap, Parasol, and Little Japanese Umbrellas.

After it rains,
Sprouting up all over, ooh!
Little Japanese umbrellas

— Bashō no yōna, Summer 2024

Sprouting up all over, ooh!
Little Japanese umbrellas

Sora

Always Good

Sora is his pen name. (曾良, literally meaning “always good”). His formal name is Kawai Sōgorō (河合, 惣五郎). The eaves of his cottage line up with the lower leaves of my bashō tree, and he helped me with the chores of chopping firewood and drawing water.”

曾良は河合氏にして、惣五郎と云へり芭蕉の下葉に軒をならべて予が薪水の労をたすく。
このたび松しま象潟の眺共にせん事を悦び。

From Oku no Hosomichi, at Mt. Nikko, Basho introduces Sora, his traveling companion on the journey. He is obviously younger, and a disciple of Basho’s, which is evident from the fact the travelogue includes several of Sora’s haiku. Close to the end of the journey, at Komatsu, Sora was seized and had to leave, but returned to greet Basho at Ogaki, the end of the trip. Sora kept his own diary which details the trip the two made together.

He died in 1710.

More please …

A masterless samurai

Sora’s Japanese Wikipedia page is more revealing.

Sora was some five years younger than Basho. His parents died when he was young, and he was adopted by his aunt, who died when he was 12. He was then taken in by a priest in Ise province. Then, like Basho, he was made a servant to a Samurai overlord, lord of the Nagashima domain in Ise. (Presumably, his connection to the Kawai clan). In 1681, he moved to Edo. This was shortly after Basho settled in at his new cottage in the Fukagawa District. There they made each other’s acquaintance. The two made a short trip together to the Kashima Shrine in today’s Ibaraki Prefecture.

The introduction begins:

“Cherishing the memory of this follower of the poetic spirit, I resolved to see the moon over the mountains of Kashima Shrine this autumn. I was accompanied by two men, a masterless samurai and an itinerant monk.”

Sora was apparently the “masterless samurai.”

In 1689, as Basho and Sora took the journey that would become Oku no Hosomichi, Sora kept his own Diary that would be published as Sora’s Diary in 1943.

Idaho

Rafting in Idaho

There is no better rafting and kayaking than on the rivers in Idaho. The Snake, the Salmon, the Payete, to name a few, endless stretches of whitewater interrupted by calm, reflective spots where one can catch one’s breath.

Basho’s near whitewater experience took place on the Mogami River during his travels recorded in the travelogue Oku no Hosomichi. The trip was almost halfway in on his journey into Japan’s northern interior, taking place at the point where Basho and Sora, his companion, crossed from Japan’s eastern coast to the west coast. They had entered Yamagata province and tarried a bit.

At the Risshakuji Temple, Basho composed a well-known haiku about the sound of a cicada coming from deep within a boulder.

The weather then turned to rain and Basho and Sora waited it out at a place called Ōishida (a place on the river near Obanazawa). Basho ruminated on differing styles of haiku and how those at this distant way station on the river had nothing new to consider. Thus, Basho composed some lines as a lingering memory.

Note. Modern annotators say Basho arrived in Obanazawa on July 3rd and stayed there for eleven days.

Early in summer, a heavy rain,
Gathering quickly,
Mogami River

五月雨を . あつめて早し . 最上川
samidare o . atsume te hayashi . Mogamigawa
— Matsuo Basho, Oku no Hosomichi, Summer 1689

Ever the tour guide, Basho mentioned the Goten (rocks in the river that look like stones in the game of Go) and Hayabusa (Falcon, i.e. fast as a falcon) rapids are just two dangers on the river’s swift course. There is also a gorge called Mogamikyo (最上峡).

Samidare, an early Summer rain, or May showers.

It was the end of June, 2024. I imagine coinciding roughly with Basho’s trip down the Mogami. I was in Idaho admiring three rivers Snake, Salmon and Payette. I did not have my kayak with me on this trip and had to be content with imagining I was riding the rapids.

Long did I linger,
Longingly looking,
At rafters splashing on the water

— Bashō no yōna, end of June, 2024

My daughter and I rode the rather tame Cache la Poudre River in Ft. Collins, Colorado on inner tubes quickly bought at the downtown hardware store.

Floating on an inner tube
My ass striking rocks in the river
— Cache la Poudre River, Ft. Collins

— Bashō no yōna, end of June, 2024

The clouds were gone. The sun was overhead shining down. The trip was down river was hot. Basho once again mentions the Mogami. One assumes he arrived as the sun set.

a boiling hot sun,
swallowed by the sea,
— Mogami River

暑き日を . 海にいれたり . 最上川
atsuki hi o . umi ni iretari . Mogamigawa
— Matsuo Basho, Oku no hosomichi, Summer 1689

Notes. atsuki, blistering, boiling hot; hi, sun; umi, meaning sea; iretari, to put in.

Lake Kahola

lonely dirt road to a distant hill

The past, a day ago

Yesterday, when I was young

Life was so much fun

Leaving Lake Kahola, Chase County Kansas, driving along an old country road, the dogs, too exhausted from their run, lie down in the back of the car, and sleep, hardly a peep can be heard, dreaming of rabbits. I wonder, do they catch their prey, and if they do, then what?

Kansas I-70

In Kansas, I-70 runs east just over 424 miles (682 km) from Colorado border near Kanorado through Colby and Russell, to Salina, past Manhattan, Topeka, and Lawrence, to the Missouri border in Kansas City. Most Kansans head west to Colorado. Most Easterners heading west say, “I thought it would never end.”

How flat is it, hmmm?

So flat, Kansas

Is flatter than a pancake

The summer wind can be brisk, making driving difficult.

A South Wind

Is a Cross-wind

On Kansas I-70

Mostly amber waves of grain and grassland and grazing cattle. Not much to look at along the way.

The sky is blue

I am blue

How are you?

The View from the car looking North

July 1, 1689

Enough

Since Matsuo Basho kept time by the Japanese lunar calendar, one can not know the exact dates, but that does not matter, it was hot, Matsushima was behind them. Matsuo Basho and Sora were headed inland.

It appears from a map of Basho’s stops along the Oku no Hosomichi that Hiraizumi was enough. Here Basho marveled on the glory of three generations of the Fujiwara clan that passed as if in a dream. And as Nanbu was still far to the north, the two decided to turn back and stay the night in Iwate, heading towards the Hot Springs of Narugo and some welcome relief.

Difficulties lie ahead.

Note. Written on the 17th day of the 5th lunar month.

尿前の関
Shitomae no Seki
Shitomae Barrier

By now, Basho and Sora had traveled some 300 miles from Edo. Perhaps, they looked a little worse for the wear and tear, tired and bedraggled. At the Shitomae Barrier, the they were eyed suspiciously by the border guards at the security station. Perhaps, it was time to start thinking of going back, but not quite yet.

Basho writes in his journal:

“南部道遥にみやりて、岩手の里に泊る。小黒崎みづの小嶋を過て、なるこの湯より、尿前の関にかゝりて、出羽の国に越んとす。
此路旅人稀なる所なれば、関守にあやしめられて、漸として関をこす。
大山をのぼつて日既暮ければ、封人の家を見かけて舎を求む。
三日風雨あれて、よしなき山中に逗留す”

“The road to Nanbu [a distant town in today’s Aomori Prefecture, also spelled Nambu] is far, so we stayed the night in Iwate [both the name of a province and a town]. The next day, we passed by Ogurazaki and Mizu-no-ojima [on Japan’s National Route 47, a statue of Basho is on the highway, looking south], then to the hot springs at Narugo, headed for the Barrier at Shitomae, intending to cross into Dewa Province.

The road was hardly used and the guards at the checkpoint examined us suspiciously. We just managed to get through. Marching up the mountain, darkness began to fall, so when we saw a house belonging to the border guard. We asked for shelter. For three whole days, a wild storm raged, trapping us there among the dark and dreary mountains:”


蚤虱 . 馬の尿 . する枕もと
nomi shirami uma no bari suru makuramoto

fleas and lice, (what’s more),
a horse is pissing,
beside my pillow
— Matsuo Basho, Oku no Hosomichi, Summer, 1689

Enough, now on to Mogami.