Momijigari: Autumn leaf hunting
Viewing beautiful things as a type of social gathering is very common in Japanese culture. From cherry blossom viewing to moon viewing, the appreciation of nature runs deep. Depending on where you are in Japan, you may have already begun to notice the leaves begin to change colors. Soon the word momijigari will be on the lips of people everywhere.
Momijigari
Momiji (紅葉) translates to red leaves, while gari (狩り) translates to hunting, gathering, etc.
While momijigari (紅葉狩り) directly translates to “red leaves hunting” or “hunting for red leaves”, today it is the custom of searching for beautiful autumn leaves in the “ber’ months: September, October, November, and December. “In the Heian Period (794 – 1185), the aristocracy started to use “Momiji, 紅葉 (red leaves)” more often to describe autumn leaves.
They preferred red over yellow leaves. They felt transience in bright red leaves that were just about to fall off from trees. They might have projected themselves in those leaves and felt sad to think of the winter’s arrival afterward” (Yamano, 2021). Despite its name, the leaves don’t necessarily have to be red to count as autumn leaf searching.
This custom appears to have begun during the Heian period (794-1185), as it was mentioned in the pages of the Manyoshu just like the Seven Autumn Flowers. In case you are unfamiliar with the Manyoshu, it is the oldest collection of Japanese poetry that dates back to the Nara period (710 to 794). This collection of poetry contains references to many Japanese customs and traditions that many practice today but don’t know the origin of. This poetry not only serves as a reminder of history but as a beautiful reminder of the ways the past and present are still connected through the nature around us.
What better way to view through the lens of the people of the Heian period than to read the poetry written while gazing upon it? The following poems, pulled from the pages of the Manyoshu, mention ‘momiji’ and help paint the picture of the autumn that still greets us every year. The first poem and its translation come from the Public Relations Office: Government of Japan:
「山川に
風のかけたる
しがらみは
流れもあへぬ
紅葉なりけり」
（作者：春道列樹（はるみちのつらき） [?-920] 、『百人一首』32番）
Yamagawa ni
kaze no kaketaru
shigarami wa
nagaremo aenu
momiji narikeri
—Harumichi no Tsuraki [?-920], Hyakunin Isshu 32
The weir that the wind
has flung across
the mountain brook
is made of autumn’s
richly colored leaves.
—Trans. by Peter MacMillan, One Hundred Poets, One Poem Each
The second poem was written by Kakinomoto no Hitomaro. Its translation comes from Classic Waka Stream:
秋山に落つる黄葉しましくは
な散り乱ひそ妹があたり見む
Roma-ji
Akiyama ni otsuru momijiba shimashiku wa
na chiri magai so imo ga atari mimu
English Translation
O you colored leaves
falling on the autumn hills,
just for a while now
do not scatter in such a whirl—
let me see where my dear one lives.
The aristocracy effect
Like many customs that we still follow in Japan, the aristocracy started them, and they trickled down. However, the autumn leaf viewing of the Heian era isn’t the same as present day. In ancient Japan, the actual act of touching dirt among the aristocracy was considered dirty (Seattle Japanese Garden). While many nobles had cherry blossoms and plum blossoms planted in their yards to view at their leisure, not many of them had ginkgo, maple, or other trees that would give such vibrant shades of red that they craved to see.
If they wanted to see the autumn leaves that were found in mountains and valleys, avoiding the dirt was impossible. In came the term ‘autumn leaf hunting’. For the nobility, there were a few instances where they would be permitted to step on the dirt, and “hunting” was one of them. “Nobles were permitted to leave the capital on foot for only a short list of sanctioned reasons: shrine and temple visits, festivals, and hunting, falconry included. Framing a trip to see the leaves as a hunting expedition, even one where nothing was actually pursued, let a noble make the walk without breaking the rule against it” (Omakase, 2026).
So, if the nobility thought walking was vulgar, how did they get around? Did they not walk at all? Instead of walking along dirt roads, the nobility were carried in elaborate palanquins and ox-drawn carriages. When they did walk, it was elegant, refined, and followed detailed instructions that demanded perfection. Where did this rule even come from, when walking on the earth feels like such a natural thing? While Buddhism or Shintoism doesn’t directly say that touching the ground was vulgar, I believe many Heian nobles interpreted it as so due to concepts such as uchi (内), soto (外), and kegare (穢れ).
In simple terms, uchi (内 refers to the inside. This can refer to the inside of your home or the group that you belong to. Soto (外) refers to the outside, an out-group, or a stranger. Uchi and soto extend to so many social and cultural aspects of Japan. Uchi and soto can be seen in the way that people take off their shoes before entering someone’s home; removing the shoes that carry the impurities of the outside world. It can also be seen in the social hierarchy of Heian period Japan. To the nobility, their domain and the things afforded to them due to their status were their “uchi” and the things commonly done by or used by non-nobility were their “soto”.
Non-nobility didn’t have access to the strict teachings of the nobility to learn how to walk formally. They didn’t have palanquins, nor did they have ox-drawn carriages. This could be why the nobility looked down on the act of walking that translated into an unwritten rule they chose to follow to maintain their “uchi”.
Another concept that could have contributed to the act of walking as vulgar is kegare. According to Shibe, kegare is a type of spiritual contamination that can come as a result of several things. “Shinto teaches that impurities naturally accumulate through the course of life. Death, illness and childbirth are all seen as kegare. This isn’t about sin or moral failure; it’s about harmony being disrupted. Washing, cleansing or renewing helps people recover from these intense moments and gently return harmony to their lives. Anthropologist Mary Douglas famously described dirt as “matter out of place.” In other words, something is considered “dirty” not because of its inherent qualities, but because it exists where it doesn’t belong within a particular system or context. The concept of kegare mirrors this idea—impurity arises when something no longer fits within a given space” (Kreuzer, 2025).
Nobles had access to transportation that ordinary people couldn’t reach. I imagine this hard line created a perception that the nobility wished to maintain; that they were different from non-nobility. Walking and doing things that we would consider as normal today breaks that image and distinction. “When the standards of one uchi muddy the standards of another, kegare is born” (Levine, 2012, pg. 226). Despite the differences in status, one thing that the nobility couldn’t deny was the desire to enjoy nature, and thus momijigari was born.
Momijigari today
What remained an activity for the elite eventually became something enjoyed by all people by the Edo period (1603-1868). “It is also said that they set up tents under the maple trees, brought in bento boxes and alcohol, and had a lively time together. This way of enjoying autumn leaves is exactly the same as modern-day events like cherry blossom viewing. In the Edo period, autumn leaf viewing was not related to religious beliefs, but simply about enjoying the beauty of the autumn foliage” (For Your Life, 2018).
If you’re interested in participating in momijigari, you’re in luck. There are plenty of momijigari trackers and forecasts, such as:
Whether you choose to enjoy momijigari during a hike at a place like Tateyama Kurobe Alpine Route, at your leisure on a blanket, or from inside your home where it’s warm, don’t forget to slow down and take in the changing of the season 🍂
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