A lower branch…
Mistakenly damaged with a spade–
A wild plum tree in bloom.
—Takai Kito

Spring is definitely here, and it is time to disappear the snow shovel, and grab the garden spade. The spade on this Japanese scroll was painted by Takai Kito (1741-1789), disciple of the great haiku master, Yosa Buson (1716-1783). The shovel is strong, compact, and simple; it appears to have a wooden handle, and the bottom is caked with soil. It is likely well-used, and easy to carry.

However, I am curious about this mistakenly damaged branch referred to in the poem. Did the poet dig up a wild plum from the mountainside to bring back to his garden? I’ve mistakenly broken small branches when transplanting a sapling from once place to another. Yet, no matter — the poet writes, the wild plum tree continues to bloom.

How wonderful! Plum trees in Japan are one of the first signs of spring, often the first blossoms in a garden. Like the old shovel, plum blossoms are hardy and strong. White-petaled blossoms open even among swirling snowflakes. Winter meeting spring.

We need to be resilient. We live in a world of great suffering. Many of us are suffering. But like the poet writes, even with a broken branch, the plum tree grows and blossoms. We, too, can blossom. We can find something to be grateful for — bird calls, snowdrops, daffodils, a recollection of a kindness received, the intention of a gift to offer.

Takai Kito not only painted the spade, but wrote the poem. However it was his teacher, Buson, who brushed the inscription as well as the poem around the handle of the spade, a clear sign of affection for his student. Let us show signs of affection for those around us. Be resilient, and strong, like this simple garden spade doing its work, digging deeply into hard-packed soil. And be resolute, like the hardy plum blossoming in the snow.

The poet, Buson, nearing his death, gathered his disciples around his bed, recited his last haiku poem, and died in his sleep.

Amid white
plum blossoms, dawn
breaking now
—Yosa Buson