John Gartner of the Sake Newsletter tells even more:

Sugidama

There are certainly a great number of symbols in the sake world;
images and things that evoke perfectly Pavlovian pangs for a glass of
good sake. It might be a blue dyed curtain hanging in front of a sake
shop, waiting to be parted as you enter. It might be the rising smell
of yakitori (grilled chicken on skewers, a standard sake
accompaniment) or just the right fruity or flowery essence reminiscent
of a good glass of ginjo. Or, it might be the sight of the sugidama,
arguably the oldest and most often-seen sign of where sake is to be
found.

Certainly you have seen them hanging around (pun intended): green or
brown spheres of tightly bound leaves suspended by a cord, dangling in
front of sake shops and pubs. A quick glance at the photo above in Danny Bloom’s post should
evoke a “Oh, those things! Yeah, I’ve seen them” response from Japundit readers
that have spent time in Japan.

Sugidama originated in the Edo Period (1600 to 1868), and have taken
many shapes and sizes over the past centuries, sometimes appearing
more like bales or bound stalks of thin branches.

What are they, these sugidama? Also known as sakabayashi, they are -
as they appear to be - balls constructed of the needles of the sugi,
or Japanese cedar tree. (The more precise name for this tree is,
actually, cryptomeria.)

The sugi holds religious significance in the Shinto religion,
particularly in connection with a shrine named Miwa Jinja in Nara
Prefecture, wherein resides a deity related to sake. Although today
not all sugidama are made from cedar boughs from this shrine (these
days there are even kura that make sugidama themselves), it certainly
is the traditional source.

Although there are several stories, one says that if the leaves
(needles, really) of sugi are soaked in sake, that sake will not go
bad. Until about 60 years ago, tanks for sake brewing were made of
this wood, as are the small boxes called masu traditionally used for
drinking sake. This wood is seen as being best for protecting the sake
from spoiling.

Long ago, sugidama were hung just outside the front entrance to a sake
brewery immediately after the first sake of the year had been pressed.
As this was late fall or early winter, the sugidama were still green,
having been made only a few months earlier. Over the next several
months, however, the green needles slowly faded to brown. It was said
that when the color had changed to brown, the sake had aged enough to
be ready for drinking.

During a visit to one kura in Yamagata, Kamenoi, brewers of
Kudokijozu, the president Mr. Imai pointed to a large sugidama hanging
by the entrance. “See that, there? As you know, it should turn brown
by the fall. Well, back in 1995, we had a sugidama that somehow
miraculously stayed green; it never changed colors. While that alone
is a mystery, recall that in that year the rice harvest was
horrendous, and as such the sake that year was bad as well. Somehow,
the sugidama knew the sake was never quite ready to drink, and so it
never turned brown.”

While I would need to see it to believe it, it
sure makes a great story.

For a couple of photos of what a sugidama looks like, check out:

http://www.sake-world.com/Sake_Newsletter/4/4.html

Although accounts differ subtly from source to source on the details,
the above is the basic gist of the saga of the sugidama. But it has
evolved in its use if not its symbolism.

Today, sugidama appear not only in front of kura (breweries), but also
in front of sake retail shops, as well as sake pubs and other places
serving sake all over the country. A few are even found outside of
Japan.

Note that in general the terms sugidama and sakabayashi are used
interchangeably. One reliable source, however, mentioned that
sakabayashi are about 40cm in diameter, while sugidama are generally
70-80cm in diameter. This appeared in a dictionary of sake terms put
out by a Nada (Kobe) brewer’s organization; and while you can’t
question their qualifications, it was the only place I saw this
distinction made.

They are not so hard to find, either. In fact, basically anyone can
buy them, should you have the need for a large ball of cedar needles
in or around your home. Should you be in Japan, ask your local premium
sake retailer where they got theirs.

One of the most charming sites of winter — if you are into sake, and I know Danny is! — must
be a sugidama with freshly fallen snow resting on the top. If it
doesn’t evoke an inner warmth, try viewing it with a glass of sake. It
soon will.