Series: Yuichi Tsukada | Haptic Botany, Vol. 15: Winter in the Mountains

"Fuyu" Connects to "Furuyu," "Uyuru," and "Fuyuru"

Part 15: Winter in the Mountains

The sky is blue, the light is beautiful, and this brilliance belongs to winter. By chance, I found myself heading to the "mountains" repeatedly this winter. I feel I rediscovered the stark beauty of winter. It was also about sensing the mountains through my fingertips, the soles of my feet, and my breath.

Photo & Text by TSUKADA Yuichi (ONSHITSU)

Lightness

In winter, many plants wither. The water that surged with sound in midsummer is released; some form winter buds, some become seeds, others leave their roots and huddle down. Beside them, with leaves fallen, flowers finished, and stems and branches withered, they await their time to awaken as tiny protrusions of new life.

It is said that to "wither" is to lose moisture and for the spirit to "leave." When water is gone, things become "light" and become a place for new life. Nestled in winter buds, protected by shells, and embraced by mother earth.

The beauty of the winter sky, therefore, lies not only in its dry, clear splendor but also in its lightness. The air, lacking humidity and weight, allows colors to shine through.

The Sun Tree

The Moon at Dawn

Vibrating Life

According to the etymological dictionary "Jito," the kanji for "winter" (冬) means "the shape of the end of a thread. It is formed by tying the end of a thread to signify completion. It refers to the time when the season concludes."

"Fuyu" connects to "furuyu" (to shake/vibrate), "uyuru" (to grow/increase), and "fuyuru" (to increase), signifying a state where new life (spirit) vibrates and trembles. After the winter solstice, as the new year begins, life secretly proliferates towards spring. "Winter" was likely conceived not as a realm of death or darkness, nor a world devoid of vitality, but as a season where life quietly nurtures and vibrates during a temporary slumber.

An Icy Figure

Ice Flower

Winter's Allure

A winter in the mountains, near the solstice. Low sunlight cut across the forest, casting stripes on the ground covered in dwarf bamboo. Beyond the black canopy seen along the larch trunks, there was an endless, transparent "blueness." The sky seemed bottomless.

On an early morning walk, I found the waning moon and thin ice.
Dew and frost on the withered fields.
Grass icicles along the stream bank.
Cold, freezing, and pure.
Within that solidified time, dreams are sealed.
When released, they gently fade into the flow and the sky.

"Nothing is as alluring as ice." - Shinkei

Series | Yuichi Tsukada | Tactile Studies of Greenery Part 15: Winter in the Mountains