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About the hills of Biei on the northernmost island of Japan, which we visited and photographed countless times together, my late father said: "When I first stood there, I was so moved I started trembling from head to foot. And, ever since, every time I see them, the hills have shown me a different aspect of themselves. Instead of growing tired of them, I seem to appreciate them more and more. My feelings for the place just keep on growing."
The reason my father and I carried on taking photographs of those hills and other similar sites can only be explained by the fact that we were fascinated by the way the scenery of this country shifts with the passing of each month.
The Japanese can be said to have a more acute awareness of seasonal change than perhaps most people. This finds its fullest expression in a wealth of seasonal expressions, from references we make in everyday conversation and letters, to the more specific allusions in haiku poetry. With all manner of associations accumulating over the centuries, a particular aesthetic has developed -- one that I would call an intimate sense of seasonal change.
The Japanese archipelago arches from northeast to southwest across the temperate regions of the east coast of the Eurasian continental landmass. Although there are great variations due to differences in elevation and complex topography, it generally enjoys temperate conditions throughout the year.
There are all kinds of ways of dividing the seasons here. The conventional four in their allotted order can be subdivided into early and late, doubling the number. Some would add the month-long summer rains, and perhaps the rainy periods in spring and autumn too. The dry winter of the Pacific coast and the spell of heavy snowfall on the Japan Sea side might also be included as seasonal variations.
Just as varied are the poignant words associated with certain phases of the year. Hakuro, for example, written with the characters for "white dew," means the beginning of September, when the dew begins to stay on the ground long enough to make a white veil.
It is with this awareness of subtle changes -- sometimes consciously appreciated, sometimes just felt in the heart -- that my father (and I hope myself) worked for more than thirty years: in intimacy with his surroundings.
Akira Maeda Summer, 2001
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