White Dew
September 7th marks Hakuro (White Dew), one of Japan’s twenty-four solar terms.
The air gradually takes on a cooler edge in the mornings and evenings, and pale drops of dew begin to gather on the tips of leaves and grasses.
Though traces of summer still linger through the day, a cooler breeze begins to pass through the morning and evening air, while the rice fields slowly turn toward harvest.
From summer into autumn, the season quietly begins to change its expression.
「露の世は 露の世ながら さりながら」
This world of dew
is but a world of dew—
and yet, and yet...
This haiku by Kobayashi Issa turns to the image of dew.
Appearing upon grasses and leaves in the morning, only to vanish as the sun rises, dew has long been celebrated in Japanese poetry as a symbol of transience and the passing nature of things.
To know that something will disappear, and yet still pause before its beauty. Within the word tsuyu—dew—there seems to dwell a distinctly Japanese sensitivity to the fleeting moments that exist only for an instant.
Two days later, on September 9th, comes Chōyō no Sekku, the Chrysanthemum Festival.
In earlier times, on the eve of Chōyō, cotton was placed over chrysanthemum blossoms. By the following morning, the cotton had absorbed both the dew and fragrance of the flowers, and was then used to wipe the body in a custom known as kisewata, a ritual believed to bring good health and longevity.
Even within a single drop of morning dew, people found the presence of the season—and placed their hopes within it.
The changing colors of the fields.
The coolness of the morning air.
A single drop of dew glistening on a leaf.
Perhaps one of the quiet pleasures of welcoming autumn lies in noticing these small changes, and sensing a seasonal transition that cannot always be clearly seen.
For this season of Hakuro, we have layered Gyokuro black tea with roasted blueberry stems and ginger.
The first impression on the palate is the soft umami characteristic of Gyokuro black tea. This is followed by the toasted aroma created through roasting the blueberry stems, bringing a deep and composed fragrance reminiscent of earth and aromatic wood.
Then, from beneath those grounded notes, a floral fragrance suddenly emerges—elegant and graceful, with a delicate suggestion of rose.
The flavor carries the ripe fruitiness of cherry and a gentle sweetness reminiscent of maple, while a subtle warmth from ginger quietly envelops the blend. Finally, a bittersweet, refreshing note evocative of citrus peel lingers at the finish, slowly unfolding into a long aftertaste.
Toasty depth, sweetness, floral elegance, and warmth.
Layer upon layer, the aromas and flavors gently unravel with every sip.
There is no need to hurry. Take a little time, and simply sit with the tea.
Just as morning dew appears upon the leaves for only a fleeting moment, there are aromas within a cup that can only be encountered at that particular instant.
Listen for the quiet turning of the season.
For Hakuro, this is a cup to be savored slowly.
