Thinking in Micro Seasons

Taking a page from the traditional Japanese calendar

Mar 18, 2024

Hello friends,

I wrote a lot about green things in this week’s installment of Thirty-One. It’s that time of year (at least here in Florida) when the whole world takes on a green tint. Everything is emerging from slumber and stretching limbs, both metaphorical and literal. Blood is flowing. Sap is flowing. Rivers are flowing. It’s time to wake up.

Time seems to move more quickly in the spring, and I’m reminded of the traditional Japanese calendar. There are twenty-four major divisions—initially borrowed from classical Chinese sources. The Japanese then further divided those seasons to come up with seventy-two micro seasons, each of which lasts roughly five days. You can see the full calendar here, but we are currently in the division of spring called Insects Awaken (啓蟄/Keichitsu). More specifically, we are in the micro season of Caterpillars become butterflies (菜虫化蝶 Namushi chō to naru).

These micro seasons are tailored to the Japanese climate, and I find myself wondering what Florida-specific seasons might be called. Pollen falls would certainly be an option. While most things are green right now, the yellow-brown oak pollen covers every available surface. Cars burn through windshield cleaner at a remarkable rate. Street sweepers clear the pollen from curbs, but the cement beneath is stained brown. I can’t stop sneezing.

Then again, Caterpillars become butterflies is rather apt for the current moment. This morning, I found a caterpillar on my porch, wondering where all the plants were. I couldn’t identify it, but it was fuzzy, so I gently coaxed it onto a napkin and returned it to the patch of Spanish needles in the backyard. Several sulfur moths flitted about.

Jasmine blooms has potential as a Florida micro season. All winter, the nearly naked woody vines slept. The older, dark green leaves remained in stoic solemnity, waiting for the explosion of spring. Bright new growth emerged over the past couple of weeks, but the fragrant white flowers are finally bursting forth. There aren’t enough of them for the scent to carry far, but soon, the whole backyard will breathe in their offering.

Where are you right now? What season are you experiencing?

Until next time,
Yardena