I moved ahead, wanting to get away from my father’s name. The other two followed.
Past the earthenware and porcelain excavated from the shrine grounds, there was a picture scroll depicting a tengu.
It was apparently from the early Kamakura period. Perhaps because it was so old, the actual item was in the prefectural museum, and what was displayed here was a replica. It wasn’t very realistic, but on the aged paper, thin lines and pale colors depicted a single scene.
From above clouds drawn with lines, a terrifying man with a beak looked down at the ground. It appeared to be the grounds of this shrine. Right next to a small shrine building was a large tree with a hollow. The way its green leaves flourished was hazily depicted like clouds. Inside that hollow, a young child was holding their head.
The title read “Tengu Raid.” I read the explanation.
The image of long-nosed tengu spread from the late Muromachi period onward. Before that, tengu were mainly depicted with beaks. This picture scroll depicts a child who hid in the hollow of a giant tree and escaped the tengu’s punishment, showing that from the Kamakura period, this Hachiman Shrine was known as a grove of giant trees.
Next to it was displayed a travel journal from the Edo period. This one seemed to be authentic, but it was in cursive script so I could hardly read it. I relied on the explanatory text.
During the Edo period as well, this Hachiman Shrine was beloved as a grove of giant trees. A visiting merchant’s diary records the legend of the Mimamori Ginkgo, where a child hid in the ginkgo and was protected from the tengu.
Ah, I see.
From the information I’d gathered so far, I had grasped the general facts of the matter.
The reason the ginkgo’s tree age had been hidden was also clear if I organized what we’d seen.
Tsunagai Hachiman Shrine, while being careful not to lie, was keeping one secret.
“…Del-chan, this is strange, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it’s strange.”
“Really…? What’s strange?”
To the confused Kannabi, Iwama explained.
“Because if ginkgos came to Japan about 700 years ago… it’s weird for there to be a giant ginkgo in the early Kamakura period.”
“…When was the Kamakura period again?”
“1185 to 1333. If it’s the early period, about 800 years ago.”
Iwama, who could instantly answer even the years, was impressive as always.
“I see… so even if the numbers 700 or 800 had considerable range, it’s absolutely impossible for there to have been a ginkgo grown large enough for a person to hide in 800 years ago.”
“The person who wrote this explanation must have noticed that. If you read carefully, you’ll understand. It doesn’t say anywhere that a child hid in the hollow of a ginkgo tree in the Kamakura period.”
“Eh, no way? But—”
Reading it again, Kannabi’s eyes widened.
“It’s true. The explanation of the picture scroll doesn’t mention ginkgo at all.”
“Now you should understand why the ginkgo’s tree age was hidden. It wasn’t hiding an incorrect tree age. It was hiding the correct tree age.”
After taking some time to think, Iwama carefully opened her mouth.
“Piling up what we can say for certain, it goes like this, right? In the early Kamakura period, there was a giant tree with a large hollow at this Hachiman Shrine, and ‘Tengu Raid’ was painted based on it. That wasn’t a ginkgo tree. But in the Edo period, there was a giant ginkgo tree with a hollow. The people of the Edo period mistakenly spoke of the legendary tree where the child hid from the tengu as being the ginkgo.”
“In short, after the ginkgo tree grew large, the setting of the legend was inadvertently replaced with the ginkgo. And it was even given the name Mimamori (Guardian Silver) Ginkgo, which became established by the Edo period.”
Once something becomes established as a famous place, it becomes difficult to casually deny it.
“If they wrote the tree age honestly, people would notice that ‘this ginkgo tree didn’t exist yet when the tengu picture was painted, did it?’ There may have actually been such pointed observations. So to keep that area vague, they had no choice but to hide the ginkgo’s correct tree age.”
“…But then, what was the giant tree depicted in ‘Tengu Raid’?”
At Iwama’s point, I thought of one possibility.
“The Great Camphor, the camphor tree toward the mountain. That one was written as 1200 years old. Even 800 years ago its tree age would be about 400 years. It wouldn’t be strange for it to already be a giant tree with a hollow.”
Kannabi frowned.
“The Great Camphor still exists, right? Why did it get replaced with the ginkgo?”
That was a reasonable question. Why indeed?
Just then, there were footsteps approaching from behind.
“I thought there was some enthusiastic discussion going on. So it was about the Mimamori Ginkgo.”
It was the old man who had been sitting at the reception desk. He looked at us with a smile.
“This is just my speculation, but I think the ginkgo stood out better. It turns beautifully golden in autumn, and it’s planted in a prominent location, you see. On the other hand, camphor trees are rather plain. Perhaps few people went to the trouble of climbing the mountain path to see it.”
I couldn’t help but sigh. Well, I figured it was something like that.
The star of a legend naturally should be a tree that lives in a bright place and looks good.
Cherry blossoms. Ginkgos. Maples too. In this world, what gets celebrated are things in the sunlight.
People don’t gather in the shade.
While many people might climb a mountain path to see cherry blossoms, hardly anyone would go to see a camphor tree.
READ THE ORIGINAL TRANSLATION AT LOCALIZERMEERKAT.GITHUB.IO
I said I was fine with it, but Iwama insisted rather passionately that she wanted to see the Great Camphor. When Kannabi agreed, I tried threatening them with “It’s quite a climb,” but was told “That much is nothing. Who do you think I am?” and we ended up going up the mountain path.
I had no idea who Kannabi thought she was. But wasn’t she the ultimate indoor person?
Walking along the narrow dirt path, I realized this was the second time I’d climbed a mountain path together with Iwama.
The first was to see the famous cherry blossoms.
And this time, to see the camphor tree abandoned by legend.
Of all combinations, these two—it felt like a rather ironic story.
“Ah, this flower—”
Iwama stopped partway. On a shrub by the side of the path, light pink flowers were blooming in profusion.
“It’s rhododendron!”
Before I could say anything, Iwama had identified it.
Rhododendron is a shrub that mainly grows in mountainous areas. It keeps its long, glossy leaves year-round and blooms beautiful flowers from spring to summer, befitting a member of the azalea family. It’s also popular as a horticultural variety, and you encounter this plant in various places without climbing mountains. That it’s growing in this low-altitude location is probably because someone planted it.
“Hey Del-chan, what do you think about flower language?”
Suddenly asked, I thought about it. Flower language. I knew it as a concept but had never looked into it.
“…To be honest, I’m not very interested.”
Iwama nodded too.
“I thought that way at first too. Like, flower language isn’t scientific, you know.”
“S-so… does that mean… you think differently now?”
Kannabi joined the conversation while out of breath. Iwama stopping in front of the rhododendron might have been out of consideration for Kannabi’s stamina. I hadn’t noticed that possibility at all until I saw Kannabi wheezing. Such casual kindness.
“For example, rhododendron’s flower language includes ‘caution’… and I wondered why such a beautiful flower would have that, and it turns out it’s because they bloom high in the mountains. It means to be careful because going to pick them involves danger.”
“I… see… so it’s… a flower of the high peaks…”
Kannabi said, looking up at Iwama. You should rest without talking.
If flowers of the high peaks bloomed in a place like this, it wouldn’t be much trouble at all.
However, I understood why Iwama was interested in flower language.
“So flower language has surprisingly interesting aspects that connect to scientific knowledge.”
“Yeah. That’s why whenever I see a flower, I make sure to look up its flower language too. When I give people flowers I’ve picked, it would be troubling if they had a weird meaning.”
While thinking that Iwama might be the only one who procures flowers to give people from places other than flower shops, I also thought, indeed. It would be troubling if the flower language of a flower you gave someone thinking it was beautiful was something like “suffering unto the last generation.”
Once Kannabi’s breathing settled, we resumed our hike, and less than five minutes later we arrived at the Great Camphor. The mountain path had been entirely in shade, and the area under the Great Camphor was no exception.
I’d been here several times before. What I remembered most clearly was the first time I came. When I was so young it’s questionable whether I was self-aware yet, our family of four visited this place. My sister, nearly two years younger, might have still been on my father’s back.
Even though it was so long ago, I clearly remembered the words my father said to me.
──You’ll become this someday, you know. A camphor tree.
In the forest, dim even at midday, I received the same impression as back then.
Magnificent.
The 1200 years of history made sense. A trunk so thick it seemed like it might have swallowed a small hut. Its form piercing the heavens was like a giant, and its spreading branches and leaves were like a dome roof. The hollow gaping open at the lower part of the trunk, where even a torii gate had been built, looked like a cave entrance.
Wordless, we were overwhelmed by its form for a while.
Finally, I lowered my gaze to the information sign.
Great Camphor of Hachiman Prefectural Natural Monument Designation Tree age: approximately 1200 years Trunk circumference: 15.5m Height: 26m
A trunk circumference of 15.5 meters meant about the size of ten adults joining hands to encircle it. Despite its widely spreading branches, its height rivaled even the tower-shaped Udaijin Cedar.
This was surely the largest tree in the surrounding area.
“A single tree can grow this big…”
Iwama, who had been looking almost straight up, slowly brought her neck back down. As she rubbed her shoulder, her neck having grown tired, she suddenly noticed and pointed.
“Hey look, this shrine building.”
The three of us walked up beside the camphor tree. There, a stone shrine building had been quietly placed. Moss-covered and partially crumbled, it gave quite an old impression.
This was probably what had been depicted beside the giant tree in the “Tengu Raid” picture scroll.
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