JET Programme Series: Rain, flowers, and everything in between - Jewell Luke
2024/5/31
JET Programme Series: Rain, flowers, and everything in between - Jewell Luke
“ Witness the grandeur of nature: fields dotted with dancing dandelions, twittering birds in birch treetops, brilliant yellow beams gleaming on freshly dewed grass and streaks of deep orange painted across a lavender sky. The best art evokes intense emotions; not only for the art itself, but also for the Artist… ”
In February, I went to watch a giant tug-of-war competition between two halves of a town. Yes, you read that correctly. Thirty minutes into arriving, my friend and I were desperately praying to find any open building to warm up a bit. And in perfect timing, we stumbled upon this little store with about ten elderly people around a space heater. Although hesitant to bother them, we mustered up the courage to knock on the glass door and before we could utter a single word, we heard a chorus of “ douzo, douzo !” or
“Come in, come in!”. We were given chairs, insisted that we sit as close to the fire as possible—I thought my knees would go up in flames—and offered hot coffee and local snacks. In simple Japanese, we chatted about our home countries and life in Japan. The scene reminded me so much of Trinidad. How you meet some people for the first time (usually older people) and they just treat you like family. Winter definitely has its charms. Whether it’s cozy blankets, sparkling embers from burning logs, deep green pine trees, blue mountains covered in white snow or interactions like this that warm your heart as much as your body.
But there’s something about brightly coloured things that inspires an overwhelming feeling of awe. April 8th is a special day. It was the first day I saw flowers in over 5 months; I didn’t think I cared that much about flowers until that very moment. I was going about my day, and there, these bushes covered in neon yellow. I now know that they’re called forsythias or rengyou . A few days later, the star of the show appeared—cherry blossoms! Weirdly though, I actually found them kind of creepy on the first day. It hadn’t occurred to me that a tree could produce flowers without a single leaf on it. These lifeless branches were somehow now vibrantly alive. I had never seen that before. But at the same time, it was rather poetic. Like this tree was first and foremost created for us to witness its beauty? I also seized this opportunity to show everyone videos and pictures of poui trees in full bloom.
Spring’s arrival also meant my first departure from Akita (finally). I spent a few days in Hokkaido doing all the touristy things. You know, eating, taking pictures of everything, riding Ferris wheels, getting lost with my friends following Google Maps directions, the usual stuff. The season was off to a great start! But as we all know, new seasons (even the pretty ones) bring new challenges. Knowing that, I always remember this day I was having lunch at a restaurant, and I looked up at a shelf and saw this little wooden block with a quote on it. I wondered if the owner knew where it was from. I knew it well because I reread it regularly, especially when I’m dealing with a problem. And despite what our brains tell us: Anxiety. Doesn’t. Produce. Solutions.
So instead, I listen to the birds, I look at the fields of grass sprinkled with vibrant lilies , daffodils, azaleas, magnolias and tulips , and I do not worry about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself .
JET Series: Rain, flowers and everything in between (Japanese Embassy's Facebook)
JET Programme Series Archives
In February, I went to watch a giant tug-of-war competition between two halves of a town. Yes, you read that correctly. Thirty minutes into arriving, my friend and I were desperately praying to find any open building to warm up a bit. And in perfect timing, we stumbled upon this little store with about ten elderly people around a space heater. Although hesitant to bother them, we mustered up the courage to knock on the glass door and before we could utter a single word, we heard a chorus of “ douzo, douzo !” or
“Come in, come in!”. We were given chairs, insisted that we sit as close to the fire as possible—I thought my knees would go up in flames—and offered hot coffee and local snacks. In simple Japanese, we chatted about our home countries and life in Japan. The scene reminded me so much of Trinidad. How you meet some people for the first time (usually older people) and they just treat you like family. Winter definitely has its charms. Whether it’s cozy blankets, sparkling embers from burning logs, deep green pine trees, blue mountains covered in white snow or interactions like this that warm your heart as much as your body.
But there’s something about brightly coloured things that inspires an overwhelming feeling of awe. April 8th is a special day. It was the first day I saw flowers in over 5 months; I didn’t think I cared that much about flowers until that very moment. I was going about my day, and there, these bushes covered in neon yellow. I now know that they’re called forsythias or rengyou . A few days later, the star of the show appeared—cherry blossoms! Weirdly though, I actually found them kind of creepy on the first day. It hadn’t occurred to me that a tree could produce flowers without a single leaf on it. These lifeless branches were somehow now vibrantly alive. I had never seen that before. But at the same time, it was rather poetic. Like this tree was first and foremost created for us to witness its beauty? I also seized this opportunity to show everyone videos and pictures of poui trees in full bloom.
Spring’s arrival also meant my first departure from Akita (finally). I spent a few days in Hokkaido doing all the touristy things. You know, eating, taking pictures of everything, riding Ferris wheels, getting lost with my friends following Google Maps directions, the usual stuff. The season was off to a great start! But as we all know, new seasons (even the pretty ones) bring new challenges. Knowing that, I always remember this day I was having lunch at a restaurant, and I looked up at a shelf and saw this little wooden block with a quote on it. I wondered if the owner knew where it was from. I knew it well because I reread it regularly, especially when I’m dealing with a problem. And despite what our brains tell us: Anxiety. Doesn’t. Produce. Solutions.
So instead, I listen to the birds, I look at the fields of grass sprinkled with vibrant lilies , daffodils, azaleas, magnolias and tulips , and I do not worry about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself .
JET Series: Rain, flowers and everything in between (Japanese Embassy's Facebook)
JET Programme Series Archives