The Way of Tea; On “The Dewy Path” In Winter
After leaves have fallen from branches and late flowers have gone to seed, the garden in winter exists in a time apart; a time of pine, moss, stone, twig and branch. Thin light from a low sun reveals immutable forms; the winter garden is ascetic, chaste and austere. Wistful recollections of summer’s past and yearnings for the promise of spring is what often informs us during this season, but the quiet beauty of a garden in winter has its own truth. On a hushed day flanked by storms past and expected, one’s eyes can be opened to this beauty, the mind in concert with the moment.
Kei (respect)
The traditional Japanese garden has many forms, and for me the Japanese Tea Garden, Chaniwa, expresses the qualities of the garden in winter. This type of garden, intimately incorporated into the Japanese tea ceremony itself, is a unique intersection of a highly developed aesthetic philosophy and a spiritual ritual. There are those who have spent a lifetime studying The Way of Tea, or Chado, and I will only attempt to touch lightly here on the gardens, the Roji, that are attached to the teahouse and their role in the tea ceremony.
Sen Rikyu (1522-1591) had a profound influence on the tea ceremony and the surroundings in which the ceremony was held. Eschewing elaborate imported Chinese porcelains and the like, Rikyu incorporated into the ceremony both the spiritual practice of Zen Buddhism, with an emphasis on the immediate and non-duality, and a highly considered appreciation of the rustic, the irregular and the asymmetric softened by the patina of age. The progression of the ceremony became a kind of ritualized set choreography of prescribed gestures and deportment; participants cleared the mind of irrelevancies, the past and future, and allowed the mind and body to be in the moment.
Guests assemble in the outer garden, resting in a shelter called a machiai as they await their turn to proceed to the teahouse to participate in the tea ceremony.
Sei (Purity)
As the guests are summoned to the teahouse, they proceed to the inner garden, uchiroji, on a meandering path. Carefully placed to direct and slow the guest, these stones should be placed naturally as if one were proceeding down a mountain path. The word roji can be translated to “dewy path” and walking on this path of simple stone and moss prepares the participant to open their “beginner’s mind”, passing from the mundane world to the heightened experience of the rustic tearoom. A low water basin is provided, as washing the hands and mouth before tea literally and spiritually removes the “dust of the world.”
Rikyu stressed the purity of the roji, the inner and outer parts of the garden divided by a bamboo wicket or sarudo so that it “appears as if a hermit lives in a hut in an old thicket.”
An aesthetic sesibility that Rikyu refined was the concept of wabi; the style of the tea ceremony as practiced by Rikyu came to be known as wabi-cha, or literally “poor tea”.
Words such as “poor”, “rustic”, “desolation”, and “imperfection” have different shades of meaning in the West. The concepts that these words express take on an exaltation of taste in the concept of wabi: free of avarice, competition and the ways of the world, the hermit in his solitude, observant of nature and sheltered in his hut on an inhospitable mountain found contentment and spiritual clarity.
The tea garden is informed by nature, but is not a “natural” garden. Natural elements are carefully considered for volume, form and balance. Within this construct is the lack of ostentation, and the quality of restraint; truth is found in the natural world, and in its bittersweet imperfections.
Neither blossoms nor tinted foliage are seen around a rush thatched hut that stands alone by the sea strand, twilight of autumn.
—Fujiwari Teika (1162-1241)
The term wabi is often conjoined with another philosphical concept, sabi. The effects of time such as the weathering of wood, the corrosion of metal, the patina of age, the cycles of nature, indeed our own mortality is inherant in the concept of sabi, and the fusion of the words wabi-sabi is a rich poetic idea that expresses both the tea garden, and the human condition in all seasons.
It is in us that God meets with Nature, and yesterday parts from tomorrow. The present is the moving Infinity, the legitimate sphere of the relative. Relativity seeks adjustment; adjustment is art.“
— Kakuzo Okakura, the Book of Tea (1906)
The gardener who has seen many seasons and harvests may ponder what is the beginning and what is the end? What is completion? Is it the plant in flower and in fruit? The plant gone to seed or with dormant roots? The tender sprouts of spring? The garden in winter, and the tea garden shows that nature is constantly devolving toward, or evolving from that which is.
Rikyu loved to quote an old poem which says: To those who long only for flowers, fain would I show the full-blown spring which abides in the toiling buds of snow-covered hills.
—Kakuzo Okakura, The Book of Tea
Being a lover of haiku I found this post and set of great photos very uplifting and soothing. The contorted little tree in the bottom photo is particularly
charming to me, and in my mind’s eye, I can see it as a symbol representing a survivor of all sorts of struggles….(like me following my dismay at the Bush Administration for the past eight painfully long years).
Jon at Mississippi Garden
Comment by Jon — 23. January 2009 @ 10:49
What a great post. I love Japanese style gardens and this was so inspiring.
Comment by Phillip (UK) — 23. January 2009 @ 10:59
Jon!
Thank you so much for your comment!
I love haiku, too.
I love your blog!
So, I appreciate what you have to say…Yes! That was my favorite photo.I placed it at the last, but I could have done the post with just that one.
Yes, Jon, I hear you! I am there!
I suppose this is a reflective post. The last one was about promise, and this one was more about where we have been, and the nature of truth. I suppose it is only when things get better one can open up and consider such things.
Thank you for your comment!
Warm regards,
Philip
Comment by admin — 23. January 2009 @ 11:01
Hi Philip!
I love your blog. You always show so many inspiring gardens, and by your selections show you superb taste and delight. I have so much enjoyed for so long what you share, and I appreciate you leaving a comment!
Philip
Comment by admin — 23. January 2009 @ 11:15
So interesting Phillp, I dont know anything about Japanese gardens so I have enjoyed reading this.
K
Comment by Karen - An Artists Garden — 23. January 2009 @ 11:16
Hi Karen,
Well, I think that I have been writing this post in my head for many years. When I finally did it, it came spilling out. So, I did it. Whew!
Thank you so much Karen for your comment!
Philip
Comment by admin — 23. January 2009 @ 11:29
Hi Philip, reading this post in the early pre dawn before the household awakes and all is quiet but for the ticking clock and the humming refrigerator and the purring cat, I am transported to a plane of philosophical contemplation. To read this post is to experience that which you have written.
On a lighter note, Gail and I wish to hop a jet to SF and join you and your friends for the role playing of heady gardener et al.
Frances
Comment by Frances — 23. January 2009 @ 13:05
Very interesting and informative!
Comment by Phillip — 23. January 2009 @ 16:07
I am always delighted to see a new post from you. I am reflecting a lot on the cycles of life and death these days = my husband is in the hospital, outcome somewhat uncertain. The garden is a great teacher. Thanks for this.
Comment by Nancy Andreasen — 23. January 2009 @ 16:07
Thank you Philip for a wonderful time, I enjoyed the guided tour as well as the tea (Japanese Tea is my favorite tea) Loved the Jaku of this post.
Take care/ Tyra
Comment by Tyra — 23. January 2009 @ 16:31
Dear Phillip, You always delight us with beautiful photos and wonderful tours…but your prose enriches us. A lovely post. I am very attracted to wabi-sabi, as you said>> “The effects of time such as the weathering of wood, the corrosion of metal, the patina of age, the cycles of nature, indeed our own mortality is inherant in the concept of sabi” I love to bring seed heads, leaves, rusted metal and weathered wood into my home. I love looking at it, picking it up and touching it…Do have a good weekend…say hello to the MI team. Gail
Comment by gail — 23. January 2009 @ 18:35
Philip, this is such a thought provoking, inspiring, beautiful post. I think that most gardeners who have been at it a for long time have come to realize that it’s not completion that is most important, it’s the process, it’s the “doing” that’s most pleasing. No garden is ever “done”. And I also believe that being in touch with the imperfections of nature teaches us, at least it has taught me, to enjoy the “mistakes” that nature sends my way. Thanks for a great post!
Comment by Michelle — 23. January 2009 @ 18:43
Hi Frances,
That sounds so much fun!
I think my next post should be completely silly!
Warm regards,
Heady
Comment by admin — 23. January 2009 @ 18:53
Hi Phillip!
Thank you for your comment!
Philip
Comment by admin — 23. January 2009 @ 18:54
Dear Nancy,
Please know that my thoughts and prayers are with you and your family. I know that this must be a very difficult time for you, and I wish your husband all the best in his recovery.
Sincerely,
Philip
Comment by admin — 23. January 2009 @ 18:57
Hi Gail!
“seed heads, leaves, rusted metal and weathered wood” I do the same!
I love your blog and I was saying to Frances that my next post should be fun and silly!
All the best to you, Cedaric, Heady, Nativa and Exotica!
:)Have a great weekend!
Comment by admin — 23. January 2009 @ 19:01
Hi Michelle,
Thank you for your lovely comment!
Best regards,
Philip
Comment by admin — 23. January 2009 @ 19:03
Hi Philip,
thank you so much for this post - I am in the middle (ish) of building my own Japanese Garden and Tea House and have been getting quite frustrated about my slow progress. You have reminded me that speed is not actually of the essence!
Is that a corkscrew hazel in the last (most beautiful) photo?
Comment by Liz Watkin — 23. January 2009 @ 19:30
Corylus Avellana ‘Contorta’ - Corkscrew Hazel
That was my favorite image Thanks!
How wonderful you are making a Japanese garden and building a teahouse! Do you have a blog on it? I was not able to find it when I clicked on your name. Either way, that sounds like quite a project, and I would love to hear more about it!
Best regards,
Philip
Comment by admin — 23. January 2009 @ 20:00
Hi Julie,
thank you for the comment. I think there are some tech problems, but hopefully fixed now. here is your very interesting comment:
Hi Philip: I like yr photos & writing always. Here particularily, I appreciate yr focus on the meaning & intent & feelings stirred by Japanese gardens. Here in the Midwest, people often ask for Japanese gardens, but often their desire seems to be led by a misguided understanding of aesthetics and not the want to be in the here & now with a sensibility of the fragility and thus the beauty of life. Thanks for all yr definitions! I first appreciated the tea ceremony years ago in high school while reading Yasunari Kawabata. His novel, THOUSAND CRANES, especially focuses on this contemplative ritual.
Thanks as always!
J
Julie Siegel
julie@jsiegeldesigns.com
www.jsiegeldesigns.com
www.jsiegeldesigns.blogspot.com
Comment by admin — 23. January 2009 @ 22:10
Hi Philip,
Reading through this, I was struck not only by your lovely photographs, but the zen-like feeling that your words conjure up. Such a pleasant and peaceful visit I’ve had. I feel so contemplative and introspective now. I don’t know how I found your blog, but I’m fortunate that I did!
Comment by Jan(ThanksFor2Day) — 24. January 2009 @ 00:55
Hi Jan!
Thank you so much, What a lovely thing to say. I so much appreciate you kind words.
Philip
Comment by admin — 24. January 2009 @ 01:54
Thank you for this beautiful essay. It makes me want to go to Japan on the next plane! Every photo is a poem in and of itself. Curly willow in the last one? I have some of these plants in my garden, but not arranged so harmoniously. I think we all should have a dewy path and some wabi-sabi in our lives!
Comment by Karen — 24. January 2009 @ 05:38
Again feeling enriched beside you through your fine script and photos, you are gift, dear Philop. The longer I garden, the more I appreciate the beauty of Japanese gardens. Regarding your thoughts, as a ‘pondering’ gardener who has seen many seasons and harvests, wondering what is the beginning and what is the end, I loved your final note … “that nature is constantly devolving toward, or evolving from that which is”. Sincere thanks for this beautiful post.
Comment by joey — 24. January 2009 @ 06:42
A transporting post. Enjoyed yet another journey of discovery, on a path marked by picture-and-word koans. Thank you.
Comment by Steve — 24. January 2009 @ 07:22
Philip,
A lovely, serene and informative post. The only serious thing I’ve read on Japanese gardens or ceremony is the Sakuteiki–and now your posts! As little as I know, I still feel a deep appreciation and connection with these spaces. In your photos it’s clear that these aren’t natural gardens. Each element, each plant stands on its own for quiet contemplation. And to me it seems that the space between things is at least as important as the things that inhabit it. Very palpable.
James
Comment by lostlandscape(James) — 24. January 2009 @ 07:32
Hi Karen!
I think your Greenwalks on your blog IS the Dewy path!
So much fun!
Thank you for your comment!
Philip
Comment by admin — 24. January 2009 @ 10:26
Hi Joey,
I love your elegant blog, and I appreciate your thoughtful comments.
Philip
Comment by admin — 24. January 2009 @ 10:33
Hi Steve, I think your bog, Clatter Valley has such incredible photograhy and brilliant and colorful inspirations!
Thank you so much for your comment.
Philip
Comment by admin — 24. January 2009 @ 10:37
James,
You said
“the space between things is at least as important as the things that inhabit it”
I so much enjoy your artistic take on things. I so much appreciate your comments and friendship.
Philip
Comment by admin — 24. January 2009 @ 10:43
What a fascinating bit of Japanese lore, Philip. It struck me the same way, writing about the local Japanese garden - one cannot help but be somewhat mesmerized by the sense of place and the utter elemental aspects that inspire deep thoughts in ways it seems only the Japanese can inspire. It seems that even Time itself blooms in gardens like these. Anyway………..let me leave some profound Haiku behind:
The mud elephant
who wades through the sea
leaves no tracks
Comment by Steve — 24. January 2009 @ 12:09
What a wonderful description of the garden in winter, and beautiful garden pictures. I’ll think of these words when out working in the garden, trying to create a peaceful space. I love the approach to the meandering path that slows travel through the garden.
Comment by Megan — 24. January 2009 @ 18:40
Hi Steve!
Thank you for the haiku!
I have been thinking about it all morning.
I loved your Portland Japanese garden post.
Thanks for your comment!
Philip
Comment by admin — 24. January 2009 @ 20:55
Hi Megan,
Have a wonderful day in the garden!
I was just down in my garden, and seeds I planted a few weeks ago have sprouted! Very tiny, but there!
Thank you for your comment!
Philip
Comment by admin — 24. January 2009 @ 20:56
Hi .. I found you through Blotanical. I love the post on Japanese Tea Garden and I love the pictures, too!
Comment by blossom — 25. January 2009 @ 10:11
Hi Blossom,
Thank you for your comment. I enjoyed looking at your blog, Blossom Blooms.
Philip
Comment by admin — 25. January 2009 @ 17:32
I am glad that you explained why there was such a weathered look to everything. I first noticed it in the purification rooms–the ones with the stones leading to them. Really, I noticed how the stones were placed and was thinking to myself that you really had to watch your step. Very clever way to slow you down. But looking at those little rooms it struck me that the wall was wet 1/2 way up. I thought if it stayed that way it would rot the wood for sure. Oh I see….you must wash the dust off and cleanse away the clutter.
So continuing on I kept thinking boy they really have a water issue. It must be a maintenance nightmare. I thought that all through the sayings and the meanings—all through the rituals—and all through the simple landscape lacking of distractions. Water and wear were everywhere. I was beginning to think I preferred the happier weathered look of Copper Top Cottage.
Then you perfectly landed my fears on understanding ground with your explanation of the weathering affect being part of the plan. Shew, I’m glad I didn’t give up and go away wondering how a place like that could be so appealing. Now I think it was brilliantly told by you. I got all drawn in to the story and was led exactly where you wanted me to go.
I am thinking it makes you a parallel to the meaning of the post. People go there to be transformed in to one with how the past meets the future if only you and the simplest things in nature existed—correct? I mean would we still be the same if we lived with no stimuli? I would hope to think we are true to ourselves and the blooms of distraction are adornments but don’t define us.
I thought of you and how you always transport me right to the place you are talking about and make me think to the future where you answer what I was wanting to know—and in the end, I feel better for having been brought through the journey. Isn’t that so awesome of you? I think so.
Thank you for the kindest of sweet things you said on my blog. I knew from the very first comment that you liked my video. I was just being critical of myself. I am so glad you included the second comment though as it squashed my concerns about how I sounded. I need that Philip and it was thoughtful of you to follow through.
Comment by Anna/Flowergardengirl — 26. January 2009 @ 06:39
Sorry not to have read all of this yet, Philip. I read half of it the other day when something happened (can’t remember what for the moment . . . a group of Venutians digging up the crocusses or somethig, anyway, whatever it was it distracted me) and now I’m in a rush so I’ll come back again more thoughtfully before I comment.
But I’ve just dashed over now to say I hope today’s reference to you on ESTHER IN THE GARDEN is ok. If not I’ll change it. (This is 26th January.)
Best wishes
Esther
Comment by Esther Montgomery — 26. January 2009 @ 16:17
Anna,
What a lovely comment. I so much appreciated the time you took to read it, and your thoughtful response.I have studied the Japanese Tea garden for years, but even so this one took its time before it came together all at once. I stayed up late to finish it. I think I should so some short posts! Actually, it is about now that I get itching to do another one, so hopefully soon.
I loved your video and your narration on your blog! it is so much fun, as are you!
Philip
Comment by admin — 26. January 2009 @ 19:24
Hi Esther!
WOW! I am on Esther in the Garden! One of my all time favorite blogs- here on Blotanical or on Mars, or even Pluto!
Have your tried Venutian traps?I hear that they remove the cause(the Venutians) but not the symptom(crocus digging)so,one wonders, why bother?
Well, what with putting the earthskins on the wrong wash cycle in the washing machine,and then finding the Minglings left a crayon in one (earthskin)and ruined the wash no wonder you have to dash!
Thank you so very much, Esther! I am so sincerely touched.
Warm regards,
Philip
Comment by admin — 26. January 2009 @ 19:54
Philip, you have outdone yourself. And I hope you are noticing that the muse that beckons you, indeed, that lives within you, is rattling the cage to be let out once and for all. (i.e.,Where’s the book, Philip?) This is a gorgeous post, one of my favs on your blog. I kept thinking, “Whoever created the tea garden must have been a Pisces.” Or, profoundly informed by nostalgia. Or dampened weather. Or poverty. Have you noticed (I’m sure you have) how scarcity really IS the Mother of Invention? This post reflects a very sophisticated very old culture. A culture which has had plenty of time to reflect on who it is and what it is about. You have pierced that most beautifully. Now, who is your agent?
Comment by Kathry/plantwhateverbringsyoujoy.com — 27. January 2009 @ 17:44
Hi Kathryn!
When I wrote this I hoped you would read it. Thank you so much for your comments! I loved them.
You said ““Whoever created the tea garden must have been a Pisces.” That was surprising, but it fits!
and “a culture which has had plenty of time to reflect on who it is and what it is about”.
That gets to the heart of things!
There no book, no agent, but you made my day by asking!
Thank you so much!
Philip
Comment by admin — 27. January 2009 @ 22:54
Hello~
You have been given a gift with words. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this post, it brought a sense of peace to my day.
Thanks!
Comment by Karrita~ My Mother's Garden — 28. January 2009 @ 01:39
Hi Karrita,
Thank you for your lovely comment.
Sincerely,
Philip
Comment by admin — 28. January 2009 @ 02:10
Your post made it clear to me that when I enter my garden, it is the outer garden which leads to the inner garden free from the dust of the world… solitude.
Donna
Comment by Mother Nature's Garden — 31. January 2009 @ 18:56
Your post made it clear to me that when I enter my garden, it is the outer garden which leads to the inner garden of solitude. And, thanks for the inspiration to look for winter beauty.
Comment by Mother Nature's Garden — 31. January 2009 @ 21:23
Hi Philip, thank you for your comments - and for looking for my blog. I’m not surprised you couldn’t find it as it’s under nuttygnome.blogspot.com instead of my name. I would love you to have a look and offer any advice on the work in progress as I was really inspired by your piece and your garden. Liz
Comment by Liz Watkin — 1. February 2009 @ 17:41
Dear Mother Nature’s Garden!
Thank you so much for your comment!
I am working on the next post…
It takes time to get it right, and I so much appreciate your thoughts!
Sincerely,
Philip
Comment by admin — 2. February 2009 @ 04:45
This was lovely! Your words were like a soothing stream of water leading us through the story. Now I want to read the Book of Tea! This reminded me of one of my favorite SF spots; the tea garden in Golden Gate Park. I loved drinking tea in the little shelter and watching the koi in the water below. Have always wanted a tea garden, myself, and if i ever get to build my ‘dream house’ there will be one.
Comment by Anne — 2. February 2009 @ 04:46
Thanks for becoming the first follower of HUGH AND CAMELLIA, Philip. It’ll be a challenging blog to do but encouraging to know others will be there along the way!
Mary (Esther) Sharpe
Comment by Mary (Esther) Sharpe — 2. February 2009 @ 14:43
I was once invited in for tea by a Japanese friend. I thought this meant for a ‘cuppa’ - but he made the ‘real’ tea used for tea ceremonies which was totally different from tea as I had previously known it. I really didn’t like it and, seeing I wasn’t very struck, he kept whisking it up into a froth, thinking that would make it more pleasant for me - which it didn’t. Then he held out a plate with little flat shapes of butterflies and ferns (made of sweet jelly?). I chose a fern but he said I had to put it back and ‘chose’ a butterfly because I am a woman. The ferns were for men. (Not doing well here!)
All the time, I was kneeling and he was explaining all the things which would be happening if there were more people there. This included making new tea (in the same bowl) for everyone present - which would have taken for ever! - but my legs were getting very painful even though I was the only guest so I asked if I could sit crossed legged or something rather than kneel.
He became very sensorious at this point and said Japanese women had no problems with lengthy kneeling so I should be able to manage it.
It was an interesting but certainly not a relaxing experience and, despite his kindness in sharing something of his culture with me . . . the result is that when I hear the words ‘Japanese Tea’ I break out in anxieties all over!
Esther
Comment by Esther Montgomery — 3. February 2009 @ 16:15
Philip, I happened upon your engaging blog on BLOTANICAL, and find it entirely fascinating. A stunning effort.
I am in Marin, and if you have a moment, please visit my blog: http://BayAreaTendrils.blogspot.com
I’d appreciate connecting with you. I am a sculptor, gardener, and garden travel writer.
Comment by alicejoyce — 3. February 2009 @ 19:03
Hi liz!
I have been away, but I appreciate your amazing efforts in constructing your japanese pond garden.I am so impressed by all your hard work. it is going to be beautiful! Stay warm and enjoy the snow!
Philip
Comment by admin — 3. February 2009 @ 20:49
Hi Anne,
I have wonderful memories of the Japanese tea garden at golden Gate park, too. i loved looking at the koi. You mentioning it brought it all back!
Thank you for your comment!
Philip
Comment by admin — 3. February 2009 @ 20:51
hi Mary!
I am looking forward to following your blog, “Hugh and Camellia”! All the best wishes to you and great success on your blog!
Warm regards,
Philip
Comment by admin — 3. February 2009 @ 20:53
Esther!
I thought your comments were hilarious! Of course, at the time of your Japanese tea there did not seem to be much hilarity!
Your experience does remind me of a Lucy episode, but I do not mean your neighbor, Lucy Corrander! Or perhaps I do! I will have to remember to not take the butterfly, just the fern for me! I think I am feeling anxious myself!
Thanks for your comment, Esther!
Philip
Comment by admin — 3. February 2009 @ 21:16
Hi Alice!
I enjoyed reading your very elegant blog. I think the tour sounds wonderful!
I loved seeing your images and thoughts on the generalife!
Warm regards,
Philip
Comment by admin — 3. February 2009 @ 21:18
Boy! It seems hard to get a cup of tea the traditional Japanese way!
Now I understand why tea-bags became so popular!
Comment by Niels — 11. February 2009 @ 04:03
Nice Work! Ther is no more to say.
Comment by garten-möbel — 4. August 2009 @ 21:17
very nice i really like it.Thanks
Comment by REKHA — 1. October 2009 @ 16:46
HI Philip,
I used some photos that you had in your blog for my post today on Bulgari and Tony Duquette. I linked back to you.
Thanks!
If you want to see the post, here is a link:http://www.decorartsnow.com
Best,
Lynn Byrne
Comment by Decor Arts Now — 4. March 2010 @ 17:37
That’s very cool. You will love the Schnormeier Gardens http://www.schnormeiergardens.org/
I think its like 50 acres, and many millions of dollars went into its creation. Its only open at the moment once a year, but you wouldn’t believe how many people show up - I have pics that are stunning.
Comment by worm farm — 25. March 2010 @ 19:22