Seeing Possibility in Every Tea Field
I grew up in Wazuka, Kyoto, on a small tea field that my father inherited from my grandfather more than 50 years ago.
My earliest memories of tea come from home. Every day, my mother roasted hojicha in our garden, filling the air with an aroma that became part of our family life. Long before I understood tea as an industry or a craft, I knew it as something that brought warmth and connection to everyday life.
When my father passed away in 2018, I chose to continue caring for our family fields. At first, I followed the conventional farming methods he had practiced for many years. Yet over time, I found myself questioning whether there might be another way—one that relied less on external inputs and more on the natural strength of the plants and soil.
Guided by natural farming mentors and inspired by my mother’s approach to growing vegetables without chemicals, I transitioned to pesticide- and fertilizer-free cultivation in 2019. The change was not easy. Yields declined, and the fields demanded patience. But I came to believe that healthy soil, given time, could reveal its own resilience.
Even before inheriting the family fields, I had been experimenting with abandoned tea gardens. By handcrafting white tea, oolong tea, and black tea from these overlooked places, I discovered something unexpected: some of the most vibrant and expressive teas emerged from fields that others had stopped believing in.
That experience continues to shape my perspective today.
Where others see limitations, I see potential. Where others see neglected fields, I see opportunities for new flavors, new ideas, and new possibilities for tea.
I named my project Utena Chaya, an ancient Yamato word meaning “lookout point.” Though my tea field is small, I hope it can serve as a place where people gather to explore what tea can become in the future. By caring for the land, respecting nature’s rhythms, and embracing overlooked possibilities, I hope to contribute to a more sustainable and imaginative future for tea.
For me, every field has a story worth rediscovering.
