Exploring Akizuki Castle Town (Sugi-no-Baba Avenue) A bite of kuzumochi beneath a tunnel of cherry blossoms

Cherry branches overlap all the way down the path. As soon as I stepped onto Sugi-no-Baba in Akizuki, I looked up before taking another step. Both the path between the tree trunks and the line of flowering branches overhead stretched much farther than I'd expected. It was a spring afternoon, and I wanted to keep wandering at an easy pace; any urge to hurry had disappeared.

I walked beneath the cherry trees in a floral dress and cardigan. Apparently, about 200 cherry trees line Sugi-no-Baba, forming a tunnel of blossoms about 500 m long each spring. Sugi-no-Baba has “cedar” in its name, and yet there I was surrounded by cherry blossoms. When I reached a spot where the trees stretched their branches overhead from both sides, my pace slowed without me even noticing.

On both sides of the path to Akizuki Castle Ruins, I could see wooden buildings and stone walls. At first I was following the blossoms, but after a little while my attention shifted to the townscape below them. Akizuki, surrounded by clear streams and mountains, is known as the “Little Kyoto of Chikuzen.” I'd planned to take photos of the blossoms on their own, but I wanted to get the path stretching beyond them into the frame, too.

I stopped beside the path for a bite of the kuzumochi I'd brought in a little dish. I lifted a piece with the short toothpick, and my attention went straight to the sweet in front of me; I stopped looking up at the cherry blossoms for a while. As I chewed slowly, I slipped back into the easy pace of the walk. I wanted to take my time with both the blossoms and the kuzumochi.

I hear Akizuki has a long history of producing pure kuzu starch. After tasting the kuzumochi, that story came back to me, and I wanted to remember that I'd eaten it right here in Akizuki. Still holding the dish, I looked down the avenue again. The stretch of blossoms ahead had seemed far off, but now it felt like more of the walk to enjoy. I decided to keep going a little farther once I'd finished eating.

As I looked back along the way I'd come, I was surprised by how far I'd walked beneath the blossoms. I'd been admiring the flowers, taking in the town, and eating kuzumochi, and somehow time had slipped by. I straightened my cardigan sleeve and looked up once more. When I visit Akizuki in spring, I want to leave plenty of time to linger beneath the blossoms.