We were fortunate this day. We stumbled upon a wonderful garden. We could sense from the outside that this was a place of lush beauty, a place to restore the weary soul. The garden was surrounded on all sides, however, by a large, wooden wall with a guard posted at the gate. It occurred to us to slip, unnoticed, over the wall and into the shadows of the bamboo beyond. We discovered, however, that the guard could be bribed, so we slipped him a sum we could afford and he looked the other way as we went in.
The garden was lovely and well-kept. Water flowed down over rocks and along a descending progression of terraces and ponds through the center of the garden. The tiny islands of these ponds were dotted with statues and pagodas. Huge koi, white and orange and gold and black and pink, swam in giant, swirling schools in the ponds and tiny turtles lay here and there in clumps sun-basking on rocks and fallen branches left for just this purpose. Between the ponds the water flowed down over the rocks and bridges of various fashions crossed the streams here and there.
The soil, where it was exposed, was a swarm of bamboo roots snaking like invaders out through the entire garden and beyond. Only diligent work, no doubt, kept the bamboo restricted to its designated groves throughout the place. Cypress knees also broke the ground all around the water, jutting up everywhere tiny mountain peaks.
Beside the great pond was a small, wooden tea house. Hovering high up on the upper terrace was a deck for moon viewing. Huge beams of cedar swarmed with vines held the deck like a canopy over the ivy-covered ground that fell sharply away beneath it to the shaded benches at the bank of the water below.
The children knelt or sat on the rocks at the water's edge and tried to attract the swirling koi. She and I sat in the benches in the shade, my arm around her and her head resting on the front of my shoulder, and we listened the water running over the rocks. Spirits could be heard dancing on the huge stone taijitu above, and you could see others dancing in the mists above the surface of the pond. Every now and then the flicker of a shadow told you that dragons flew overhead. If you closed your eyes, you could hear the furnace of their breath. We sat as long as we could, and then we continued on our way.
The road is long and the way is hard. Along the way we take all the joy we can. At the end of the road is a garden. For this, we walk on.
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
P. S. - Aphter: 42. Thanks for stopping by.
