Persian Bonfire Jumping, Cherry Blossom Viewing, and the Emergence of Ceremony from Deep Nature Observations (Ecotopian Ideals Pt 3)

Recently I've had the opportunity to participate in a variety of celebrations that boil down to a simple premise: spring is here and we should celebrate. The Frog Snow Moon has come and gone, and it is the Windy Month or for some the Time of Flowers. In the northern hemisphere, we are past the Spring Equinox, so in some sense we are truly in Spring. But, for many the weather remains unpredictable with bouts of cold, rain, clouds, and even a bit of frost. Summer is still a ways off, even as dozens of flower start their blooming and leaves begin to emerge from the wooden branches of trees and shrubs.

The ending of Winter and transition to Spring was of momentous importance to ancient cultures as it signified the possibility of new food emerging from the ground (in the form of early spring greens like Nettle and Chickweed) and the coming abundance of the Summer months-full of light, life, and food.

There are almost an infinite number of ways in which people can and do celebrate this Spring emergence, and there seems to be wisdom in the variety itself. It all signals a deep alignment and harmony with cycles that our digital devices, work schedules, and rampant consumerism are designed to pull us a way from. Profound elemental ceremony without any particular dogma arises naturally when people observe and connect with nature deeply...and these kinds of practices might just be a perfect remedy for the dystopian ills of our time.

What specifically am I writing about? Well, let me share a few examples.

Write around Spring Equinox, my family and I were invited to participate yet again in what has become an annual practice for us to welcome in the Spring energy. A couple of our friends gather many members of their Bahai community and just as the sun is setting they light a number of small bonfires. Everyone present (from the littlest of kids to the elders) are encouraged to jump over the series of fires to drive out the "yellow energy" of winter and welcome in the "red energy" of fire, warmth, and the coming summer. You can see the fires in the pictures above.

My family and I have been lucky enough to do this since our son was born, and after years of hesitation he now emphatically joins the other kids in running and jumping over the fires. This journey started when he was so small he was held in his mom's arms as she jumped over.

Where did this practice originate? Where did it come from? One Persian elder shared with us again his understanding that this practice is a pre-Islamic activity from Iran that is likely from the Zoroastrian tradition (a very ancient monotheistic religion based around the teachings of the prophet Zoroaster with a particular reverence for fire). This would make the practice thousands of years old. He went on to share that there's a possibility that it's actually pre-Zoroastrian and thus even older.

In the weeks following the night of bonfire jumping, magical jewels and gems of color have sprung up around the valley we live in and all over the area. Flowers come early to the PNW, and their colors and beauty are a welcome delight amidst the continued gray cloudy skies of our typical spring. Perhaps no other flower is quite as eye-catching and meaningful as the delicate pink-white petals of the cherry blossom.

All across Western Washington, there are ornamental cherry trees planted designed to bloom in sequence usually at the end of March and beginning of April. They vary in color from pure white to a creamy blend of pink and white to the rare darker pink, almost purple blossoms. Only a few produce fruit, most are planted simply for their beauty. There are even many examples of naturalized cherry blossoms that have spread into wild areas bringing their ephemeral beauty with them.

I was first exposed to cherry blossom viewing when I was twenty and had the unprecedented opportunity to participate in the Hanami cherry-blossom viewing festival in Kyoto in Japan. While studying abroad during my junior year, my program spent a week for Spring Break visiting Tokyo, Osaka, and Kyoto viewing the cherry-blossoms (known in Japanese as sakura) at their peak amidst ancient Buddhist Temples and Shinto Shrines. In Japan, everyone took time off from work, went out and walked amongst the beauty of the flowers, drank sake, and composed poetry. It was a national holiday to celebrate the beauty of Spring and the subtle, brief beauty of the cherry blossoms (which often fall off after a week or less).

What a meaningful and poignant cultural practice and again something we can learn from. Like I said before, "Profound elemental ceremony without any particular dogma arises naturally when people observe and connect with nature deeply and over time...and these kinds of practices might just be a perfect remedy for the dystopian ills of our time."

This year there is a particular abundance of cherry blossoms in both the numbers of trees blooming, and in particular the number of blossoms on each trees (see the photo above). The winds have been gentle and the local Cherry Blossom festival at the University of Washington campus, at select sights through out Seattle, and informally at dozens of place cross Cascadia, has flourished enabling us to drink in the sensual pink beauty and subtle fragrance of the trees in multiple places. Local vendors have even created cherry blossom-themed food from drinks to noodles. I've personally enjoyed a couple of sakura-flavored matcha lattes that were out of this world.

Taking time away from our devices, appreciating and celebrating beauty that appears but once a year, and absorbing that beauty with all of our senses: what a profoundly natural and healthy thing to do.

Finally, people often find a way to bring a playful and even absurd element into their celebrations of nature and the cycles of time. Just north of where I live, in the town of Duvall, there is a fun and hilarious celebration put on by a lot of farmers and people who live in the Snoqualmie Valley. It is named the March of the Vegetables. No, really. People dress in vegetable costumes and walk down the streets of Duvall ending their march at a local park that is full of vendors sharing gardening tips, giving away seeds and plant starts, and teaching about native plants. There is music played by local bands and a beer garden is available for celebrating the wonder of brewing with plants. The whole thing is rather silly (as you may have guessed), but what a fun way to welcome in the planting and gardening season.

I don't know how or exactly when the festival started, but it is a good time had by all. It certainly honors the agricultural roots of the valley and shows deep appreciation of the food that will soon be planted and alter harvested. What better way to honor the cycle and the emergence of Spring?

I have seen time and time again in a variety of places that humans naturally want to honor these cycles and their relationship with them. There is a profound magic behind all of these acts, tuning us into something deeper and more profound that comes from observation of nature. I believed we are designed for these kinds of relationships and that they are truly what we long for. As we seek answers to our increasingly complex world, perhaps what we seek is found in simply going outside regularly, observing, connecting, and tending the natural world around us. Then we can follow our own natural inclinations to honor those connections and cycles in something that is ancient as humanity itself.

Nate Summers

Sakura Flourishing Time

Windy Month

Traditional Snoqualmie Territory

Cascadia