Momiji-gari: Ginkgo (Itchonoki)
Golden spires with spindly tops reaching high. A yellow lightning rod. Planted along a long boulevard, the ginkgos in autumn are a stunning sight.
The approach is pedestrian enough. You walk from the metro station past cars, people, buildings. It’s anonymous urban blandness. A voice droning through a loud-hailer assails the air. You sense crowds and crowd control at work and groan inwardly. Then you catch your first glimpse and you gasp. The ginkgos have turned the boulevard into a golden cathedral. You cannot help but slow your step, slow your breathing, and try to hold onto their beauty for eternity. The authorities have turned a large section of the road over to the crowds and we spill onto the tarmac to catch the best views. We are quite a throng, but it’s quiet and the mood is somewhat reverential. The ginkgos against a cloudless blue sky are otherworldly. Staring at them, we are transported to a different realm, where for a brief moment our focus is not on ourselves but on something transcendent and ablaze—a beauty outside of us, more gorgeous than we could ever be.
We are humbled. Then, overwhelmed, stumble into a special fair nearby and succumb to buying trinkets and snacks.
