This year, once again, our village held its very small Gion Festival.
Although we call it a Gion Festival, it is not Kyoto’s grand celebration with its splendid procession of festival floats. Ours is a quiet, simple observance in which flower decorations are offered at the village shrine.
Even so, it is a time-honored rite dedicated to Susanoo-no-Mikoto, the same deity enshrined in connection with Kyoto’s Gion Festival. From early morning we cut the grass along the village roads, and in the afternoon the villagers raised the flower decorations and offered them at the shrine.
A small Gion Festival protected by the village
▼ The village shrine surrounded by greenery
Flower decorations carried on from last year
Last year marked the return of the formal flower decorations after a six-year absence. The story is told in our Japanese-language post “Our Village’s Small Gion Festival | Flower Decorations Passed Down”.
This year, too, we followed that form and offered decorations bearing washi-paper flowers at the shrine.
There is none of the bustle of a large festival. Yet in the act of raising bamboo, attaching flowers and placing them before the deity, one can sense a form of prayer that seems to have continued on this land for centuries.
▼ The 2026 flower decorations made by villagers
Seen up close, each flower is very simple. The paper is cut, colors are layered, and the pieces are tied together by hand. None of it is especially showy, yet when the handmade flowers gather, they bring a gentle brightness to the shrine grounds.
▼ Flower decorations made with washi paper, bamboo and straw
In earlier years, many children also took part, and the festival was an important annual event. Today, depopulation and an ageing community have made it much smaller.
Even so, the villagers still gather, cut the grass, make the flowers and offer them at the shrine. Taking part in that time makes me quietly grateful for the connection that brought me to live here.
Leaving a record of a small festival
Across Japan, many rites and festivals have probably already disappeared. It is sad when history, memory and the traces of people’s lives vanish.
That is why I want to lend my hands where I can and leave a record behind.
▼ The sun setting behind the western mountains after the festival
As the festival ended and the sun leaned toward the western mountains, everyone gathered for a small celebration. An ice-cold 🍺 tasted unbelievably good!
A small Gion Festival in a small village. Once again this year, it came quietly and safely to an end.