Many years ago, a Japanese seafood aficionado taught me about Tokishirazu Sake (時知らず鮭). Literally meaning “salmon not knowing the season,” this fish is highly sought after in Hokkaido because it returns to its spawning river in the wrong season—spring instead of autumn.

Unlike autumn salmon, the flesh of the Tokishirazu is highly prized by connoisseurs for being rich and full of delicious fat. Though I’m not a seafood enthusiast and can’t recall the price, I have always found the phrase Tokishirazu (時知らず） beautiful.

The point of this post, however, is not salmon, but my Clematis montana ‘Elizabeth’. This vine normally flowers only in late spring, but this autumn, it is blossoming again. It’s a handful of flowers scattered across the vines that are currently wrapping around the stair railing. I have been meaning to cut it back, but my laziness has prevailed, and online literature suggests against pruning this variety anyway, as it blooms on old wood.

I’ve grown tired of gardening. Over the past five years, I tried to cultivate various colourful clematis varieties in the same spot, aiming for continuous bloom from spring to autumn. Most of those efforts failed due to mislabeling or the plants simply not surviving. Only the unruly ‘Elizabeth’ variety remains, with its relatively short two-to-three-week blooming period.

Yet, these unexpected, Tokishirazu blossoms are giving me second thoughts about cutting the vine back. While I no longer appreciate the plant with the enthusiasm of its first bloom, this quiet, unseasonal persistence compels a different reaction. When the time comes to prune, I think I will be gentle.