This in an excellent book, especially if you are into nature writing. It is easy to read and I love how perfectly everything is described. This book makes me want to examine and live with the seasons even more than I currently do; reading a slowed down look at a year was so nice and meditative.

Due to a sudden, unexpected passing in the family a few years ago and another more recently and my subsequent (mental) health issues stemming from that, I was unable to download this book in time to review it before it was archived as I did not visit this site for several years after the bereavements. This meant I didn't read or venture onto netgalley for years as not only did it remind me of that person as they shared my passion for reading, but I also struggled to maintain interest in anything due to overwhelming depression. I was therefore unable to download this title in time and so I couldn't give a review as it wasn't successfully acquired before it was archived. The second issue that has happened with some of my other books is that I had them downloaded to one particular device and said device is now defunct, so I have no access to those books anymore, sadly.

This means I can't leave an accurate reflection of my feelings towards the book as I am unable to read it now and so I am leaving a message of explanation instead. I am now back to reading and reviewing full time as once considerable time had passed I have found that books have been helping me significantly in terms of my mindset and mental health - this was after having no interest in anything for quite a number of years after the passings. Anything requested and approved will be read and a review written and posted to Amazon (where I am a Hall of Famer & Top Reviewer), Goodreads (where I have several thousand friends and the same amount who follow my reviews) and Waterstones (or Barnes & Noble if the publisher is American based). Thank you for the opportunity and apologies for the inconvenience.

I was immediately drawn to this book by the beautiful cover and the expectation of learning about how the Japanese divide the year into 72 seasons.

Unfortunately I didn't learn a lot of about the seasons as they only serve for a heading for each chapter. The author took the time during lockdown to put down what he noticed during the seasons in London and break them into the 72 seasons.

I found it a little like a Bill Bryson book in slow motion. There is some gentle humour but just not the book I was expecting. I had planned to follow along with the seasons in real time but I lost interest with it. Perhaps because I had some of the same experiences during lockdown, if you are unaware of the nature around you then you might find it more interesting.

beautiful! loved it.
- thanks to netgalley and the publisher for providing me with the ARC in exchange for an early review.

Lev provides a way to connect intimately with our seasons through awareness of the transitions in our environments. This is a good book to slow down with and travel the year with close by.

This book is such a delightful read! I am so glad that i picked this one up after seeing some bookstagrammers posted about this book on their Instagram accounts. I am really thankful to the publisher, Elliot and Thompson and NetGalley for giving me the opportunity to read this book!.

The unique thing and one of the most fascinating things that i learned from this book is the Japanese Micro-seasons /Ko (pronounced as 'Koo'). Naturally,there are only four seasons that are familiar to us; Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter and 12 months in our western calendar (January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November & December).

However, the ancient Japanese came up with 72 micro-seasons instead, whereby they sub-divided their 24 seasons further into 3 ,making it 72 smaller divisions/Sekki and gave distinctive names for each seasons.

Each micro-seasons/Ko (pronounced 'Koo') have their own unique features/characteristics symbolizing the beginning or the ending of the seasons,from which is based from the observation of the changes of the natural phenomena,starting with Risshun (Beginning Of Spring),ending with Daikan (Greater Cold). Each Koo lasts for a period of 5 days. For instance, Risshun (Beginning Of Spring) approximately begins from February 4-8 from which the natural phenomena indicator would be where the east wind melts the ice, then from February 9-13 where the Bush Warblers start singing in the mountains and February 14-18 where the fish emerge from the ice.

What this author does here through this book is,he not only introduces to us this unique concept of 72 Japanese micro-seasons but also incorporates into his own daily natural walks that he took in his local hometown, in West Norwood (South London) where he makes his own daily observations of his own surroundings using the Japanese micro-seasons as his guide/reference by adapting to the British seasons and natural surroundings of his place. For instance, 30 January-3 February (Greater Cold/Daikan), the natural indicator at his place would be the Jay birds retrieve the acorns instead of the Japanese, hens start laying eggs.

In short, this book will take you on a long yet meditative walk from the backyard of the author in West Norwood across the local town,streets,parks and the cemetery in that area which surprisingly sounds like delightful and serene places (based on the descriptions of the author) and brimming with interesting wildlifes and nature! Imagined how many various species of birds,trees and flowers/shrubs that he found/discovered just in those areas. There are even some migratory birds from faraway places,from as far as Africa!.

Surprisingly, i find the idea of taking a slow,daily walks in one's local neighbourhood to be pretty relaxing and suitable with my interests of outdoor and nature activities,whatmore it is more suitable and accessible to do during this pandemic as it can be done solitarily,of one's own company. At the same time, i myself used to do the minuscule observations like he did by observing my natural surroundings as my previous house was situated in natural settings (near the woods and the natural reservoir),we even have our own lush green gardens. Hence, i made my own daily observations just from my own garden and backyard, from the minuscle or tiny things (the insects,the leafs,etc) until the biggest and most obvious things such as the birds and the wildlifes that came into our garden. I even named those birds and squirrels that reside in our garden and i can tell each of them apart,individually distinguishing them based on their own distinctive features! (i just knew which bird is which or whether its the same bird or not that came).

So in conclusion, i agreed with the author that this simple routines may sounds like boring and silly sometimes but actually it is teaching us a lot of things such as patience, being observant, and impermanence. At the same time, we are learning to be mindful of our surroundings which is very important, not only to our health and well-being but also to the ecosystems. Through our closer observations then only we realised something's not right with our environmental surroundings. With realization, comes awareness and with awareness comes actions. The great floods that hit my country recently is one such example of negligence due to lack of awareness of the conditions of the natural surroundings and because of that, many suffered great losses; loss of homes,properties and loved ones.

All in all, this is a book i would recommend to anyone who is into nature and who loves a slow but relaxing read and a few good laughs (to a British humour) even though sometimes i didn't quite get some of the jokes due to cultural differences but i still had a great time reading this.

The author Parikian here applies the concept of the 72 Japanese micro-seasons to the British year. Closely he observes the nature around his home in London. On walks he notices the birds, bee's, insects, fungi, lichens etc and the change in them.
I really liked the humour of the book and the simple underlying messages about slowing down and taking time to appreciate the simple/natural things in life which I think Covid made us do.
A very enjoyable read.
My thanks go to the author, publisher & Netgalley for providing this arc in return for a honest review.

In true nature diary style, Lev Parikian takes us along on his regular jaunts through his neighbourhood in London during the 2020 COVID-19 lockdowns. What is unusual about this, however, is the way he divides the year: using the 72 seasons of the Japanese calendar.

That might seem like a weird concept, but the point was to stimulate closer, slower observations of the natural world around him. You get a sense that these close observations pull him through the mundanity that comes from being stuck in the same place for a long time — something many readers will resonate with.

I really appreciated the gritty tone that comes with writing about nature in an urban environment, and I loved the positioning of living creatures against the backdrop of cemetery, streets and backyard.

Parikian is an honest, funny, down-to-earth writer, and his non-egoic style is refreshing for the nature-writing genre. He deftly keeps his writing light while maintaining beautiful imagery and thoughtful insights. His fumbling attempts to identify species is endearing and encouraging to all nature enthusiasts — it’s okay not to know, it’s the act of noticing that’s important.

This book lends itself to reading a few entries, putting the book down and then picking it up again, or perhaps a daily entry with your morning coffee. My only criticism, and I was looking to hard find one, is that the observations are very bird and insect heavy.

I imagine myself returning to this book again and again. Picking it up from my bedside table and flicking through to the coinciding 5-day season. What did I notice today in my neighbourhood? What was happening in the natural world then and there? And what is happening here and now?

As we all continue to move in and out of lockdowns, and as the uncertainty around the pandemic continues, this book remains relevant. More than that, it’s a delightful reminder of how the regular and mundane can become new and interesting when we take the time to ‘really look’.

I love the idea behind this one; taking the ancient Japanese system of seasons, if which there are 72, and applying them to the authors local patch, this 'Bears start hibernating in their dens' becomes 'Unremitting grey skies'. This was a lovely book to dip into and savour. Apparently, the original idea was to travel the UK, but this was written in 2020 and so lockdown. I think I preferred having it set in one location and getting to know that part more intimately.

I loved how the author takes pleasure in the small things that sometimes go unnoticed, like a spider web, or the misses and lichens, as well as the everyday that we take for granted. I see Blue and Great Tits everyday, flocking around the bird table and love watching them, they are so acrobatic, and yet because they are always around, it could be easy to take little notice of them. I also found reading about his lockdown experience interesting, staring friendly through the gates of the cemetery which was a part of his usual walking route but was shut up, and joy when it was re-opened. It was also shot through with humour; take this imaginary conversation between two (dead) creatures:
""Humans?"
"Yeah. How about you?"
"Humans"
"What did you do?"
"Built a nest. You?"
" dunno really. I think I was just there."
"What is their problem?"
"No idea."I

What indeed?

I'm looking forward to reading this again over a year so I can read about each season as it's happening.

*Many thanks to Netgalley and the publishers for a review copy in exchange for an honest opinion*

This was an absolute delight to read. Parikian takes the idea of the 72 Japanese micro-seasons, each lasting 5-6 days and attempts to apply them in a similar fashion to the British year, using a close observation of the natural world. Originally he was to have ranged up and down the country, but COVID stopped play and meant that he was confined to within a short distance of his London home.

I think the book is all the better for it. It forces Parikian to be even more attentive and noticing and create an ongoing relationship with some of the creatures that he encounters, the graveyard fox and the peregrine that he sees perching on the church spire. It gives a real sense of belonging to the writing that. I loved.

This is gentle and thoughtful and extremely lovely. Just reading it made me feel calm.

Four seasons are not really enough to describe the myriad weather patterns that we encounter throughout the year. It turns out that the Japanese have 72 different “seasons” that encompass the weather they experience over the course of a year. Parikian uses these beautifully descriptive phrases to describe the weather patterns in the UK in this lovely, meditative book. A gentle balm to Covid weary souls

An interesting application of Japan's seasons to those in a small town in England. This is not the type of book that you read, but rather you peruse it. Because of that, I feel it would have been greatly enhanced by some illustrations and made into more of a beautiful coffee table book. I'm a little envious of the author; it must have been terrible fun to write!

I requested this because I was hoping to find oit more about the Japanese concept of micro-seasons -- what they entail, how this translates to Western climate, how & when this system was established, that kind of thing, combined with the author's examination and exploration of the natural world surrounding him using the kō system. What I got was some guy in London describing his daily walks. That's basically it. Not all that exciting, also written in a rather workman-like prose I didn't find especially evocative, so sadly it didn't even make for escapist reading. I was also surprised that it did not feature any illustrations, as I thought the gorgeous cover hinted at more beauty inside.
I'm now looking into sekki and kō by myself, seeing if I can find/work out a correlation with my local climate zone; I actually DNF this, but probably will return to it throughout the year whenever I feel like it.

Thank you, Netgalley and publisher, for the opportunity to read an ARC of this book.

My thanks to Elliot and Thompson and NetGalley for a review copy of this book.

‘Stop and smell the roses’ we are sometimes told or tell ourselves. Slow down, look about, and take in the beauty and wonders of life around you at all times—it isn’t just flowers, but birds, insects, bees and butterflies, trees and plants, and much more. And that’s what Lev Parikian’s Light Rains Sometimes Fall: A British Year through Japan’s 72 Seasons invites us to do.

We usually think of seasons in terms of the typical four—spring, summer, autumn, and winter, but really, depending on where in the world one is, these vary and can be more or less in number (here in India, the monsoon is, of course, another). The Japanese conception of seasons is very different with the four seasons divided into six and further three subdivisions, totalling to 72 micro-seasons of five days each. Each of these reflect the subtle little changes in weather, the coming or going of seasonal birds, insects, frogs, or flowers, the ripening or harvest of a fruit or a crop and such. Using these micro-seasons as a guide, the author charts his observations of the changes in the place where he lives—South London—mostly his home and neighbourhood, and the cemetery where he takes his daily walks, for the year he writes his experiences of began in February 2020, and not long after he started, lockdown began.

From new leaves appearing in spring, to subtle changes in the weather, the arrival of the seasonal birds he watches out for every year, to butterflies, bees, and dragonflies, little insects or spiders, or even mushrooms cropping up in hidden corners, mosses and lichens, the author traces it all. Each chapter is named after his own observations of that period such as ‘Dunnock defies the traffic noise’, ‘Bird song fills the air’, ‘Maple reaches peak of glory’ or ‘Bracken turns to bronze’. Alongside, we also find in each chapter, the name of its Japanese counterpart (oftentimes very different) like ‘Chrysanthemums bloom’, ‘First lotus blossoms’, ‘Thick fog descends’, ‘Silkworms start feasting on mulberry leaves’, or ‘Tachibana citrus tree leaves turn yellow’ (both in English and Kanji)—some names in either case, are poetic and others plain.

The book is written in a casual, chatty tone (the ‘f’ word creeps in quite a few times) pretty much as though the author is speaking to us of his experiences, but is filled with lovely, detailed descriptions of all that he observes, but at the same time also a thread of humour running through it, which I enjoyed. (Besides the actual humour, I also found myself laughing a little at his terming 30oC weather as baking coming from a place where 44 is quite regularly reached; and our winter sees 2oC too, even if we don’t have snow and ice.) But don’t let the humour and causal tone fool you, for the author, a keen birder with other books to his credit knows his birds, and even though he is a little self-deprecatory about it, he also knows about other aspects of nature as well, and his knowledge shines through in the book.

The seasons themselves, even when subdivided into such small periods, aren’t quite so easy to compartmentalize, as the author tells as, for nature ‘rolls and waves, ebbs and flows, the distinctions often too blurred for us to notice’. They also have the ability to surprise for even the birds the author knows to expect at a certain time, can still surprise him while alongside, on some occasions there are bigger surprises in the sighting of unexpected birds or butterflies, among others. But whether commonplace or unusual, much of what the author sees, because of how closely he observes it, and the attention he pays to it, has the ability to amaze, surprise and cause his eyes to pop with wonder. As he writes

‘…looking closely at something as it were for the first time—it’s a way of finding beauty and interest in the mundane, learning to appreciate the things that form the backdrop to everyday life’.


And it is not just the aesthetics of these but also the feats they are able to accomplish—from tiny creatures migrating several thousand miles, to others knowing just where they have hidden hundreds of acorns. The author has his favourites among them of course, and also some he doesn’t approve of—as would any person. (Of course, I don’t, like him, find poor parakeets or grey squirrels annoying, nor am I able to not get queasy about the unpleasant sides of nature—I might not fault the predator, but I do pity the prey.).

Nature is all around us, yet in our daily lives, ‘civilised’ as we call ourselves, most of us have all but cut ourselves from it. As the author writes, ‘we have become estranged from the rhythms of nature’ (this is in contrast to Japanese culture which has words for moon-viewing (tsukimi), viewing the cherry blossoms (hanami) and even leaf viewing (momijigiri)—a connect with nature lacking in others, and more so in modern life). We try to master and control it or fear it, rather than treating it with the respect or love it deserves. Even if not as intently as the author, if we would stop for a moment and take in the wonders that the world around us has—from the smallest to the largest thing—not only would our daily lives be a little brighter, perhaps, one would be able to avoid catastrophes like the one we have landed ourselves in now.

I really enjoyed reading the book, which also led me to look up a lot of British birds that I was unfamiliar with like dunnocks, firecrests etc. My favourite part though turned out to be a very straightforward sentence about the Harvest Moon—‘The Harvest Moon is simply the full moon that occurs nearest the autumn equinox’, for this was the full moon I stood up on my terrace looking at just the day I was reading this book, and indeed the next evening in line with the moon festival and Tsukimi!

A wonderful read for birders and nature lovers.

4..5 stars

“Light Rains Sometimes Fall: A British Year Through Japan’s 72 Seasons” is the latest quirky, rewarding outing of British conductor and nature chronicler Lev Parikian. Framing a year as six dozen traditional Japanese “seasons” of around five days, with each chapter listing the Japanese traditional phrases associated with each “season,” the author describes a year of exploring his own British town turf: the cemetery, the streets, the parks, his own garden. And of course his project fitted perfectly into the pandemic-locked-down world we faced over 2020 and into 2021. Parikian is a devout birder, and superb at describing birds and their sounds and habits, but he’s also an endlessly curious naturalist, beginning journeys of learning about butterflies, plants, wasps, you name it. His effortless style marries lyricism, intelligence, humor and adept pacing. Listen: “But without getting too ‘the stars are God’s daisy chain’ about it, all I can say is that after five minutes of simply standing still in the presence of this bird, I feel better. Would I go so far as to say it sparks joy? I would.” And: “Yes, light rains do sometimes fall, as do heavy ones. And then there are the occasional torrential downpours, the kind that feel like some sort of endurance test.” I strongly recommend Light Rains Sometimes Fall; if any book can persuade you to see more closely, this is it.

Thank you Netgalley for the opportunity to read and review this.

This is beautifully written, following a year in a town in London, on the Japanese approach of seasons.

I found this very enjoyable, as I learnt both Japanese and British cultures, as we move through the seasons and the year, during the pandemic.

Very well written, that I was able to almost visualise my version of the scenes described.

Personally, for me, this was a slow read, but it did give me a good break from all the usual books I read, which for me, was very much appreciated.

How often have we ever stopped to appreciate a spider's web and the care that was taken to create it? If you enjoy slow walks down the garden path, this book is perfect.

This nature-journal style book takes you by the hand and leads you on a walk with the author as an experience of intentional recognition of the seasons. Through stories of romanticized walks, the author describes appreciating a bird song to noting the veins of leaves. This book has stayed with me long after I finished it because of the writing style of the author, as you experience the journey through the seasons it feels like you were on the walks too. I thoroughly enjoyed it and will reread it!

This book was provided to me through NetGalley for an Honest Review.

There is no shortage of recent books about nature, but Lev Parikian takes a very clever and original approach in this highly enjoyable book. As Parikian points out, the division of the year into seasons is entirely arbitrary and artificial: while we have four, three and six are just as common, so Parikian decides to adopt the traditional Japanese custom of dividing the year into seventy-two microseasons, each lasting five or six days. Variations in weather and climate mean that these microseasons won't necessarily all be the same year on year, but by breaking the year down into such small segments, Parikian creates an opportunity to look carefully at the world around him and notice the gradual, almost imperceptible changes which are constantly at work.

We follow Parikian through one cycle of 72 seasons, beginning in February 2020. This obviously means that this is also a chronicle of the first year of Covid-19, and the scope of Parikian's project changes as a result - rather than venturing further afield, his observations are confined to his neighbourhood in West Norwood, particularly his garden and his local cemetery where he takes his daily walks, lending the book a focus and clarity beyond what was originally conceived. The pandemic casts a shadow over the book but is only mentioned on a handful of occasions, and is never allowed to dominate. As Parikian observes, this only goes show how nature carries on regardless of human activity (or lack of it).

Parikian proves an excellent companion and commentator through these seasons: never pious, worthy or sentimental, he offers the enthusiasm and exuberance of a recent convert, making us feel we are just as capable of paying close attention to our surroundings as he is. His tone is often irreverent but he captures some moments of true beauty, and engages seriously with weightier questions of climate change and the impact of human behaviour on the natural world.

This is quite a slow read - the book would become a blur of details if devoured too quickly - and might be most enjoyed of all if read in real time with one chapter every five days or so. This is not a weakness of the book but rather a reflection of what Parikian is trying to communicate: the benefits of slowing down and paying attention. I loved this book and it has definitely made me think differently about the passing of time over a year and the changes we see in the world around us.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for sending me an ARC to review.

Lev Parikian’s beautiful book is a very clever and unique melding of Japanese wisdom and British pragmatism. In seventy-two short chapters he views the changes in the British seasons through the prism of the Japanese concept of micro-seasons.
Wandering his favourite local areas including his own garden, the surrounding streets, park and local cemetery, he spots beauty in the wild as well as the mundane.
We get delightful chapters entitled “Sogginess Prevails” and “Starling Hullabaloo” to remind us that we definitely are still in Britain. There is something wonderfully non-digital about this book which offers a welcome break from our hectic modern lives.

So beautifully written a unique idea breaking the seasons into Japanese seasons.The author involves us in his British world and Japanese traditions.I loved reading this book and will be gifting it to friends,.#netgalley@#elliott&thompson