01 Autumn · 紅葉 kōyō
Nine days of red.
When the nights fall below eight degrees, the maple stops making green. The sugar trapped in each leaf turns to anthocyanin, and for nine days in November the canopy is the colour of our seal. Then it lets go — all of it, onto the moss.
In the garden We don't rake. The leaves feed the moss until the first frost.
02 Winter · 寒樹 kanju
The tree, undressed.
Bare, it finally shows you the work: every branch placed, every line argued over by five generations of the Kōno family. Winter is when a bonsai is judged — and when it is wired.
In the garden Frost cloth below −5 °C. Water at noon, never at dusk.
03 Spring · 芽吹き mebuki
Lighter than air.
The buds split in the second week of April and the first leaves come out folded, the green of a lime peel and almost translucent. For a fortnight the tree weighs nothing. Somewhere upwind, the cherries are letting go.
In the garden Water twice a day. No feeding until the new leaves harden.
04 Summer · 深緑 shinryoku
Storing the light.
By June the canopy closes and darkens. This is the working season: the tree banks sugar for an autumn it cannot see coming, and we pinch every new shoot back to two leaves so it grows finer, never bigger.
In the garden Shade cloth after eleven. Three waterings on the hottest days.