Hello from Kagoshima, Japan. As we reach the end of March, the air here in the south has begun to soften. You can feel the quiet arrival of spring.
In Japan, March is the season of endings.The school/work year and fiscal calendar both run from April to March, making this a time of farewells, graduations, relocations, and reflection. It is a moment suspended between what was and what is about to begin.
But for tea trees, and the people who care for them, the rhythm is slightly different. Here in Kagoshima, the second southernmost prefecture of Japan and the country’s largest producer of aracha (crude tea), something else is already underway. After months of winter stillness, the tea fields are beginning to awaken. The buds are sprouting. Soft. Delicate. Full of promise. Just as people across Japan wait for the sakura (cherry blossom) to bloom, signaling the arrival of spring, tea producers wait for this moment, the first sign of life returning to the fields.
The 1st flush, aka Ichibancha (一番茶) or Shincha (新茶) in Japanese, is the most important season of the year for tea producers. Throughout winter, the tea plants quietly store nutrients beneath the surface. Then, as temperatures rise, they release that energy all at once. Into small but vibrant new growth.
Traditionally, this harvest begins around Hachijūhachiya (May 1–2), the 88th night after the first day of spring (Risshun 立春, around February 4). This timing has long been considered ideal for producing high-quality tea. It is also regarded as an auspicious moment, believed to bring good health and fortune when enjoying the season’s first tea.
But Kagoshima moves to its own rhythm. Thanks to its warm southern climate, regions such as Chiran begin harvesting as early as early April. And now, in these final days of March, the fields are on the verge of that transformation. The buds are waking slowly and gracefully. And with them, so are the producers.
“It’s finally starting. It’s that time. Let’s do this.”
I hear it in passing conversations. In small exchanges between farmers. There is definitely a quiet determination and passion in the air.
Fan used to protect the delicate new leaves from frost damage. Sprinklers are also used.
Although Kagoshima is getting warmer, there is still a distinct difference between day and night temperatures. This gap plays an important role in shaping the tea. Helping to concentrate sweetness and depth. It is one of the quiet factors behind what makes the tea expressive.
But that same condition also brings a high level of tension. As the tender new buds emerge, producers begin closely monitoring the weather. Especially the risk of frost. A single cold, clear, windless night can damage these delicate young leaves. And so the days begin earlier, the nights stretch longer.
Late-night field rounds.
Early morning checks.
A rhythm of care that repeats, day after day.
The restless season has already begun, before the harvest itself.
The iconic Kaimon-dake standing quietly in the background
The raw material of matcha is called Tencha. Unlike Sencha, the most commonly consumed green tea in Japan, Tencha is grown under shade for about 20-30 days before harvest. This shading process transforms the leaf, preserving L-theanine and enhancing the umami-rich sweetness. It also enriches the vibrant green color that defines matcha, as the leaves naturally increase chlorophyll in response to the limited light. Because of this extended process, matcha production naturally follows a later timeline, often continuing into May.
But I’ll share more about this process as the season unfolds. For now, we are still at the beginning.
Last year, 2025, was a challenging one for the tea industry here. With the rapid global rise in matcha demand, the market shifted in unexpected ways endlessly, creating pressure across the supply chain. Even now, those conversations continue:
“What will happen this year?”
“How will the market compare to last season?”
There’s still uncertainty.
In the midst of all this, our mission remains simple.
To continue introducing authentic, high-quality Japanese matcha.
To work and learn closely with producers.
To honor their craft, their land, and their stories.
And to share this journey with you honestly. Raw and unfiltered.
For now, I close this first chapter with a quiet hope:
That this will be a good year. For the fields, for the producers, and for everyone connected through these teas.
