Japan’s first cherry blossom viewing parties took place during the Heian Period (794-1185). Aristocrats, courtiers and poets observed the fragile beauty of the pale pink blossoms and pondered the exquisite poignancy of human mortality. What, I wonder, would they have thought of the happy hoards in Ueno park? On a Sunday at the peak of this year’s hanami season, modern revellers seemed keener to ponder the bottom of a beer can, or perhaps a convenience store bento – those, that is, who weren’t shaking the branches with their carousing, or sprawled out in a stupor on the ubiquitous blue sheeting.
After a tiring day among the bacchanalian crowds I headed home. On a whim, I took a short cut through a park near my house. Here, the celebrations were a little more sober as locals contemplated the yozakura (night cherry blossom). Couples, small groups of friends, and factory co-workers still in their green overalls sat quietly under the laden boughs. Maybe a little of the Heian spirit survives yet?