Shizuokaしずおか

The Master of Life's Eternity and Finitude. The myth wherein Oyamatsumi offers his daughters Iwanaga-hime (the eternity of rock) and Konohanasakuya-hime (the fleeting beauty of a blossom) to the Heavenly Grandson is not merely a marriage tale, but a philosophical myth determining human lifespan and natural providence. When Ninigi-no-mikoto chose only the beautiful younger sister and sent back the ugly older sister, Oyamatsumi delivered a declaration that was both a curse and a prophecy: "The lifespan of the Heavenly Grandson, which should have been eternal like a rock, will now scatter fleetingly like a blossom." He is depicted as a god with a cold, primordial fatherhood who teaches humanity both the beauty and harshness of nature, and the finitude of life. A Massive Perspective of Nature That Rejects Anthropomorphism. Among Japanese deities, rather than being depicted in a specific anthropomorphic form (such as an old man), Oyamatsumi is strongly perceived as a massive mountain block, a dense forest, or an island serving as a navigational landmark. This grand scale is the very perspective of mother nature, transcending the morals and ethics of human society. Even during the era of Shinto-Buddhist syncretism (Honji Suijaku), rather than being tied to a specific Buddha, he was worshipped as an overwhelming aggregate of natural energy. Guardian of Mines, Blacksmithing, and Brewing. The multifaceted nature of the mountain god expanded further. He was devoutly worshipped as a professional deity by miners who extracted ore from the mountains and by blacksmiths. Furthermore, he possesses the aspect of a god of brewing as "Sakatoke-no-kami." This stems from ancient memories of alcohol being brewed from wild nuts and spring water found in the mountains, and the indispensability of alcohol in rituals before the gods. Oyamatsumi is an all-powerful tutelary deity (Ubusunagami) who manifests on all boundary lines where nature's bounty is transformed into human culture (livelihood).

The Embodiment of Beauty Pregnant with Roaring Flames. Konohanasakuyahime is not merely a "delicate and beautiful goddess." The myth of her willingly entering a burning delivery hut to clear her husband's doubts reveals an overwhelming pride and fierce passion (intense like volcanic magma) hidden within her. Her beauty is a fierce and dangerous one, shining only in extreme situations adjacent to death—much like cherry blossoms blooming on the slopes of an active volcano (Mount Fuji) that could erupt at any moment. The Ruler of the Boundary Between Life and Death (The Delivery Hut). In ancient Japan, "childbirth" was an extremely dangerous act adjacent to the impurity of death (a magical space of blood and fire). The story of Konohanasakuyahime giving birth to Hoderi-no-mikoto (Umisachihiko) and others in the flames is a metaphor for the victory of life force itself—bringing forth new life by overcoming the danger of death (fire). Consequently, she garnered fanatic devotion as the absolute "guardian deity of safe childbirth and child-rearing" from women striving to sustain life amidst harsh realities. Fuji Worship and the Salvation of the Common People. In the "Fuji-ko" faith popular during the Edo period, the worship of Konohanasakuyahime (Asama Okami) evolved into a massive folk religion encompassing not just safe mountain climbing, but everything from worldly benefits to posthumous salvation. It seems contradictory at first glance to install a goddess as the principal deity of Mount Fuji, which was originally closed to women (Nyonin Kinsei). However, this symbolizes the dynamism of Japanese religious history, where a harsh mountain of asceticism gradually transformed its nature into a mountain of affection embracing the common people (including women).

A Jorōgumo based on the canonical image found in Edo-period sources. A great spider, having aged into a yokai, assumes the form of a young woman or a mother and child to exploit lapses in human judgment. She appears at liminal places such as waterfalls, deep pools, verandas at the edges of mountain villages, and abandoned houses, casting many layers of silk to bind victims and dull their judgment through sleep or enchantment. Toriyama Sekien depicted her commanding fire-breathing spiderlings, helping fix motifs of acting in groups and fleeing into the upper parts of houses such as the attic. In some regions she is deified as a protector against drowning, with stones or small shrines raised in her honor. Many tales end with her being thwarted by human wit—cutting her threads and tying them to a stump, or seeing through her disguise—while others warn of taboos where breaking a vow of secrecy brings death, or of fatal infatuations that drain one’s life. This profile avoids modern embellishment and stays within the breadth of existing tradition.

A figure based on Edo-period essays and ghost tales. Ranked below the long-nosed yamabushi-style tengu, it performs menial tasks and is described as birdlike or as a human-faced bird. Accounts vary by region and source: flocks seen at night catching fish on the Ōi River in Suruga, references to them as white wolves within the tengu realm and as elder wolves elevated in rank, and tales of trickery such as a hunter in Iwakuni being toyed with by a tengu disguised as a boy. Overall, rather than causing great harm to people or livestock, they tend to interact through shapeshifting and bewilderment. Ukiyo-e sometimes shows them resting in trees, suggesting they are not invariably violent. Their nature is tied to the mountain borderlands, quick to sense human intrusion and retreat.

A depiction of the hihi based on Edo-period images and folklore. Said to dwell in mountains, it is an aged monkey transformed into a giant, powerfully built being. Many regions tell that it bursts into loud laughter, and when its long upturned lips roll back to cover its eyes, it leaves an opening to strike. Tales include the abduction of women, bouts with woodcutters, and raising wind and storm to hurl people. Natural history compendia such as Wakan Sansai Zue report black hair, large size, and hearsay of human speech, though exact locales and physical evidence remain uncertain. Its name is commonly linked to its laugh. It is sometimes conflated with yama-warawa or monkey deities, but is often distinguished as an ape-shaped mountain monster.

An Aobōzu type based on images in Edo-period picture scrolls and regional field collections. Depicted as a monk with a bluish hue or as a one-eyed priest, it may be told as an animal in disguise, a manifestation of a mountain deity, or an uncanny being of uncertain nature. It serves to warn children against wandering, anchors tales of hauntings in fields, mountains, and vacant houses, and conveys oral taboos. No fixed proper name or origin is agreed upon, and its conditions of appearance and behavior vary by region. Because Sekien’s print lacks commentary, notes from other sources list it alongside the “One-Eyed Monk” or as an allegory for an unseasoned priest, but neither view is definitive. In premodern oral accounts, concrete images coexist under multiple labels such as “Blue Priest,” “Great Monk,” and “Little Monk.”

A folkloric image of Atakemaru, the famed shogun’s flagship, remembered as a presence imbued with lingering spiritual power after dismantling and reuse. The ship’s splendor and public reverence fused with the belief that soul can dwell in objects, becoming a warning that rough treatment of its timbers invites strange happenings. Its manifestations are indirect—unsettling noises, revelatory dreams, possession of household members—with details varying by place and storyteller. Because historical service records blend with oral tradition, the tale functions as a symbolic, cautionary yokai story.

A folkloric figure tied to the coasts and estuaries of former Tōtōmi Province, said either to descend from a straw doll set adrift by the monk Gyōki or to have signaled drought-stricken farmers with the sound of waves. It appears as a small child or tiny doll, with no fixed features. Its role is to foretell weather by wave-sound, indicating the approach of rain and wind by direction and intensity, allowing fishers to judge whether to launch and farmers to plan their work. It overlaps with ideas of water and dolls, kappa tales, and accounts under the name umibōzu, yet all remain within a frame that reads sea-roar as folk knowledge. Rather than an object of worship, it is a personification of awe-inspiring natural signs, and offerings or rites vary by region. Records rely on local materials and oral tradition, with details often uncertain.

A collective term found in early modern anecdotes and essays for possessions by the vengeful spirits of horses. It warns against violating precepts against killing and neglecting animal care ethics, with triggers including abuse, death from overwork, and callous disposal. Symptoms include neighing, involuntary movements of the limbs, craving foul water, self-biting, reports of seeing as a horse sees, and voicing curses against abusers. The possessing agent may be the spirit of a specific horse or generalized as retribution within the realm of beasts. Recorded remedies include esoteric rites, posthumous memorial services, tending graves and making offerings, though efficacy varies by case. Cases appear in Mikawa, Tōtōmi, Awa, Musashi, and Harima, affecting horse-handlers, samurai, and farmers. While some tales are highly embellished, overall they function as didactic narratives promoting animal memorials and ethics.

An edited version consolidating Edo-period pictorial sources of the “Inugake” apparition. Inugake are fur leggings worn from the waist to the legs for warmth and protection in hunting gear, placed within the lineage of tool-spirits that gain sentience after long use or separation from their owner. In Sekien’s illustration only the legs seem to walk independently, with the caption evoking the inugake of Kawazu Saburō in The Tale of the Soga. This is a literary hint by the artist rather than evidence of a specific vengeful-ghost tale. In early modern Night Parade of One Hundred Demons and tsukumogami scrolls, yokai wearing inugake appear, emphasizing the uncanny form of the gear. Its nature is generally to show up at night and startle people, with no clear record of harm or benefit. Localized traditions are scant, and most examples belong to urban pictorial culture. It is understood as a classic example of the idea that aged implements come to house spirits.

A representative form from the Tokaido’s Sayo no Nakayama. The spirit of a pregnant woman murdered on her journey is said to have possessed a stone and cried each night for her unborn child. People performed memorial rites, and in time the spirit was soothed. Folklorically, it is tied to roadside memorials, Koyasu child-protection faith, and the erection of stone steles, reflecting an older belief that spirits dwell within stones.

Taiba is recorded as a sudden apparition arriving with wind and blowing sand. It appears from April to July, especially May to June, and travelers were warned on days that shift between sun and cloud. Accounts vary by region regarding the victim horse’s coat and sex: in Mino white horses were targeted, in Enshu chestnut and bay, while old women and mares were said to be spared. Eyewitnesses tell of each mane hair standing on end, a red gleam shining, and when the horse collapses the wind falls still. The Owari and Mino “Giba” is regarded as a personification of Taiba, a small girl who descends from the sky, ensnares a horse, then vanishes with a smile; the chosen horse spins rightward several times and dies. Folk countermeasures include covering the horse’s neck with cloth, fitting deerfly-proof belly guards or bells, and in emergencies letting a little blood from the ear, needling the center of the tailbone, or cutting the air ahead with a sword while reciting the Komyo Mantra. Temples and shrines fostered prayers for quelling horse-plagues, and talismans to horse deities and belly wraps were used as Taiba wards.