TREE

Japanese author Kōda (1904-1990) was like the Lorax, speaking for the trees, with affection and appreciation of both their beauty and their usefulness.

Kōda’s father, Rohan Kōda (1867-1947), was also a well-known author and loved trees, especially those that flower and produce fruit. He passed on that fondness to his three children, giving each four trees: a mandarin orange, persimmon, camellia, and, of course, cherry blossom. The children could take the flowers and fruit from those trees and, in return for that gift, were expected to nurture their trees. Kōda writes, “My father also played an active role, making sure that he passed his passion on to us so that we would grow up to love seeing trees flower and bear fruit.” The author lived up to her father’s expectations in this collection of 15 essays about trees, published in Japan decades ago and now translated into English decades after her death. She tells stories of her visits, in her 80s, to view forest preserves across Japan, as well as her hometown strolls with a grandchild to admire spring cherry blossoms. One journey is to the oldest sugi cedars of Yakushima island; they’re called Yakusugi, a term of respect reserved for sugi trees that are more than a thousand years old. One of the trees in the preserve, “the legendary Jomon Sugi,” is estimated to be 7,200 years old. The bark of any ancient tree—she calls bark the “kimono”—can tell interesting stories, Kōda says. For example, the kimono worn by pines is heavy and protective, while the ginkgo’s kimono is thin and creased. The oriental plane tree has a “dyed” kimono, and the striped crape myrtle is a “snappy dresser” with its “pleasant mottled patterns.” This is not a book to be read quickly from cover to cover. Rather, one can keep it on a bedside table or near a favorite reading chair, with each essay savored on its own.

Remembrances of an inspiring father spark a charming reflection on the majesty and the intricacies of trees.