IITATE, Fukushima Prefecture--Kinichi Okubo dreams of the day the garden around his home is filled with mature cherry blossom trees that will flower for generations to come.
IITATE, Fukushima Prefecture--Kinichi Okubo dreams of the day the garden around his home is filled with mature cherry blossom trees that will flower for generations to come.
Achieving the goal is his way of thanking people who supported him through hard times following the 2011 nuclear disaster.
Okubo, 75, has had a passion for flowers and plants since childhood, and his efforts over the past 40-odd years paid off as friends marveled April 19 at the carpet of yellow narcissus blooming across the entrance of his home, garden and paths along the fields beyond.
Okubo, who used to make his living here as a farmer, modestly acknowledged the bonhomie with a shy smile.
Okubo, a native of Iitate, recalled that he always wanted to pick the wild flowers he encountered along the mountain trail he took to school. He started by planting Japanese primrose that grew in a marsh around the well in his yard. He orginally brought back narcissus that had sprouted where an old coal oven used to stand.
After narcissus wither, Japanese iris start to bloom in his garden. And once fall arrives, autumn crocus dye his garden purple. Asian skunk-cabbage grown in a stream near his charcoal burner hut has multiplied over the years.
When he was not cultivating flowers or planting cuttings, Okubo enjoyed gathering wild edible plants in the mountains in spring and mushrooms in autumn. But his life underwent a drastic change on March 11, 2011, with the nuclear crisis triggered by the earthquake and tsunami disaster.
The magnitude-9.0 Great East Japan Earthquake struck around the time Okubo was making charcoal for the "kotatsu" (heated table with blanket) in his house. Iitate was designated as an evacuation zone after the nearby Fukushima No. 1 nuclear power plant went into triple meltdown. He evacuated with his 96-year-old mother Koto.
Okubo said he returned to his temporary home in Fukushima city one evening in autumn 2011 and he found his mother alone in a room without the lights on.
"I don't want to die in a place like this," he heard her mumble. His mind went blank.
His mother's words snapped him into returning to his home in Iitate to spend the new year holiday period there.
Okubo felt a strong attachment to his home because it stands on a patch of land his parents cleared themselves. The family continued growing rice there, even after they were forced to scale back their operations to comply with government policies.
"I don't want to desert this land where my parents spent so long trying to make a go of things," Okubo said. "This is where I want to spend my last moments."
Yet today, he is unable to grow rice or vegetables on his land. He would sometimes awake in the middle of the night and think, "If only the nuclear power plant never existed." Invariably, he was unable to go back to sleep.
Okubo decided to plant the cherry trees as a way of thanking his friends who stood by him during the hardships following the earthquake and tsunami. He had befriended many of them in gardening shops and elsewhere. He said they called him up after the disaster and sent him water, food and other supplies.
Okubo initially thought of growing rice again once his fields were stripped of contaminated top soil, but some warned him that people may not feel comfortable with eating rice from Iitate.
That was when he decided to grow cherry trees instead because the blossoms can be enjoyed for generations.
Last spring, Okubo planted cherry tree saplings around his house with his friends and other people. With the help of experts, he had surveyed the quantity of radioactive materials contained in the soil and removed the surface layers beforehand.
He continues to plant cherry saplings on former rice paddies and land formerly used to grow crops. Okubo expects that more than 150 saplings will have been planted within the year.
Each tree was given a distinctive name by his friends, such as "Mirai-zakura" (Future cherry) and "Shuppatsu-zakura" (Departure cherry). He contemplates planting narcissus flowers between the cherry trees.
"Growing more flowers to see people with smiles on their faces has become one of my joys," Okubo said.
A year after the first saplings were planted, dozens of tiny cherry blossoms bloomed this spring.