East Gardens in Autumn Dress, But...

Dengue fever continues to spread

. In response, on the 7th the Imperial Household Agency posted notices at all three entrances to the Imperial Palace East Gardens of the Imperial Palace (Chiyoda, Tokyo) asking visitors to wear long sleeves and long pants. No cases have been confirmed in the East Gardens, but notices went up at Ote-mon, Hirakawa-mon, and Kitahanebashi-mon; insect repellent was lent with appeals such as "Please wear long sleeves and pants to avoid mosquito bites." News reports say off-season sales of repellent and insecticides are surging and test kits are in short supply. Schools are changing school-trip plans for Yoyogi Park, Shinjuku Gyoen, and the East Gardens—the ripple spreads.

Near Palaceside Building, the East Gardens of the Imperial Palace and Kitanomaru Park would normally show autumn plants, flowers, and fruit in vivid seasonal change—but visits may be fewer for now. Here are photos from a peek into the East Gardens last Friday, before dengue spread widely. If you are holding off on walks there, enjoy autumn through these images instead of relying on repellent to go out.

Near Fujimi-yagura are Wildflower Island and east-west historic fruit-tree orchards. On Wildflower Island, bush clover, yaburan, and kobagiboushi are blooming. The historic orchard beside it was soil-improved and planted in the Honmaru area from FY2007–08; by March 2009 all but peach and plum were planted. As tastier, higher-yield crops replace older varieties, heritage fruit disappears from view. On the site of Edo Castle, planting Edo-period varieties was thought to interest visitors—following the Emperor's wish. Mukuge is blooming in the orchard now.

The walk day had beautiful autumn-clear clouds. Besides mukuge, peach, plum, and ringo apples were coloring; sanboukan fruit was still hard green, but autumn mood came through in the photos. On the moat a white bird rested on a log, enjoying the wind—I couldn't zoom in enough to name it.

I also walked to Kitanomaru Park, where murasaki shikibu bore clusters of reddish-purple berries about 3 mm across—glamorous like the Heian writer's name. Birds love these berries, they say.