The Japanese have a great appreciation for nature, and particularly for the colors of autumn. During this time, the reds, yellows and oranges of the momigi (Japanese maple), ginko and various other deciduous trees set the landscapes and gardens afire.
The momigi is world famous for its hand-shaped leaves and its brilliant hot red color. Its trunk and branches are usually crooked and asymmetrical, but well balanced. Its thin branches wave and shake in the wind, but the leaves hold on until late December. Many leaves clench up like a fist and die on the branch, rather than allow the wind to detach them from their source. Because of their stunning beauty and smallish stature, the Japanese plant them near their homes and throughout their personal and public gardens.
The ginko has pale yellow fan-shaped leaves and grows to the size of an oak. The Japanese often plant them along roadsides and flank them next to momigi (making a striking yellow-red contrast).
My two favorite spots for foliage viewing were a small garden near the Chabad Tokyo house and from atop Takatori Mountain.
The momigi is world famous for its hand-shaped leaves and its brilliant hot red color. Its trunk and branches are usually crooked and asymmetrical, but well balanced. Its thin branches wave and shake in the wind, but the leaves hold on until late December. Many leaves clench up like a fist and die on the branch, rather than allow the wind to detach them from their source. Because of their stunning beauty and smallish stature, the Japanese plant them near their homes and throughout their personal and public gardens.
The ginko has pale yellow fan-shaped leaves and grows to the size of an oak. The Japanese often plant them along roadsides and flank them next to momigi (making a striking yellow-red contrast).
My two favorite spots for foliage viewing were a small garden near the Chabad Tokyo house and from atop Takatori Mountain.
I visited the Tokyo garden about twice a Shabbat for five consecutive weeks in November and December, watching the change. I would stroll through and bask in its peaceful atmosphere, taking moments to sit and watch the sun set the momigi leaves aglow. At its entrance were tall ginko, standing like guardians. Past the entrance were 30 feet of rock steps, with momigi running along both sides. Within the garden were stepping stones, over a dozen momigi and a small pond at its center. The still surface of the pond reflected the autumn colors sharper and clearer than a direct view.
Takatori Mountain was an ideal spot for viewing the deciduous trees of the hills of Miura Peninsula. During my lunch hour, I would run up the trail to the lookout tower and pray amidst a sea of orange and green (and the occasional yellow of a ginko).
Now the leaves have fallen, and the clear skies, starry nights and cold breeze of the winter have arrived.
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