Micro-season 28 of 72 · May 21 – May 25

Silkworms feast on mulberry leaves.

Kaiko okite kuwa wo hamu

Silkworms awaken in their trays and begin devouring fresh mulberry leaves, their rhythmic eating filling traditional farmhouses with a sound like gentle rain.

The mulberry groves stand heavy with leaf, each tree a deep green cathedral humming with purpose. In sericulture villages, the soft rustle of thousands of tiny mouths on fresh leaves creates a continuous whisper — the sound of transformation beginning. The air carries the faint vegetal sweetness of chewed mulberry, mixing with the warmth of late May mornings.

Nature notes

Silkworms, now in their voracious third and fourth instars, consume their body weight in mulberry leaves each day, growing visibly between feedings. Swallows dip and wheel above flooded paddies where rice seedlings have just been transplanted, their reflections doubling in the still water. The hydrangeas are budding but not yet open, holding their color in secret.

In season

Fruits

Vegetables

Fish

At the table

01

Loquats poached in light syrup, their coral flesh turning translucent, capturing the fleeting sweetness of early summer.

02

Stir-fried silk pod peas with shrimp, the pods still crisp and almost squeaking, dressed simply with sake and salt.

03

Salt-grilled grunt fish, its skin blistered and crackling, the flesh at its sweetest before the rainy season arrives.

04

New garlic cloves pickled in soy sauce, mild and juicy, without the bite of aged bulbs.

Cultural note

This micro-season marks the height of traditional sericulture's most demanding period. Farming families once slept in shifts to feed silkworms around the clock, maintaining the warmth and humidity the creatures required. The phrase 'お蚕様' (okaikosama) — 'honorable silkworm' — reflects the reverence given to these insects that sustained entire regional economies, from the mountains of Gunma to the valleys of Nagano.

蚕の音や夜も絶えざる桑を食む

kaiko no oto ya / yoru mo taezaru / kuwa wo hamu

sound of silkworms — / through the night without ceasing / they devour mulberry

In the rearing house, a single silkworm lifts its pale head, searching for the next leaf — patient, ancient, already dreaming of silk.