Nature’s Tapestry
I remember once sharing with a classmate during university abroad, about the country and region I called home for most of my life. Few things surprised her as much as the fact that English was our first language, and that we experienced only one season a year, characterised by perpetual heat and punctuated with rainy spells. Back home, the sun rises and sets daily with a mere discrepancy of minutes, and predictability in the natural works of each day led to a lackluster attitude towards weather-based activities done on a whim.
As far back as my memory goes, the idea of seasons has always been romanticised and strongly characterised by colours – in films, songs and conversations with those who have made prior pilgrimages to faraway lands. Christmases are always white – a time of giving and reunion. Springtimes are always in shades of pastel – a time of renewal and rediscovery. Summers are vivid shades of crimson and gold – a time of bold confessions and freedom. Autumns are sunset hues of reds, oranges and yellows – a time of retreat.
Last April, I was able to experience the springtime I had only seen in movies, in Jinhae. Located just an hour away from Busan by bus, Jinhae is one of the more well-known cherry blossom spots in Korea, with people travelling across the country to attend its annual cherry blossom festival – Jinhae Gunhangje. The bus ride was a prelude for what was to come. Along the way, we saw small clusters of cherry blossom trees in school fields, in backyards, by the streetside... It was a strangely refreshing sight for someone who was accustomed to evergreen vegetation, 365 days a year!
When we arrived at the Jinhae Intercity Bus Terminal, we were greeted by endless clouds of pink that seemed to roll on – welcoming us to our first foray into the city of blossoms. Since there were two recommended spots for cherry blossom viewing – Yeojwa Stream and Gyeonghwa Station, and the former wasn’t too far off, we decided to take a stroll there whilst soaking in what seemed like an overflow of life and beauty. Along the way, we snacked on some freshly made pork belly kimbap and lamb skewers from a street vendor who had set up a makeshift grill outside their restaurant. Those, paired with some self-concocted soju slushie, were a lethal dose of yum.
It was a wise choice to work up our lunch appetites by walking, but it was truly challenging not to get distracted on our way to Yeojwa Stream. Street vendors had very creatively sprinkled their dose of cherry blossom dust on everything. There were seasonal snacks of all sorts – artfully crafted meringue-made cherry blossom cookies that looked indisputably life-like, little cherry blossom cakes shaped like a cherry blossom flower, and filled with red bean paste and cherry blossom extract, blusher-shaded cherry blossom waffles, cherry blossom infused sparkling soda and sikhye. Anything ingestible and cherry-blossom flavoured that you can imagine, they probably had it there…
read the full piece in AbstractS – Issue One: ImpermanenceText and images by ANATOMY OF THINGS