The Japanese Stone Lantern ~ Light in the Garden

God, how is it possible? It really has been a thousand years ago!

I was working on a project for the Port of Seattle Sea-Tac Airport. It was my first small works contract. I'd been hired to design something else when I got a call from my project manager at the Port. "We need you to stop doing what you're doing right now and start designing something to display a Kasuga-dōrō." "Great," I said. But, what I was really thinking was ~ Mmmmm, what's a Kasuga-dōrō? 

Things I learned on that project: First, a Kasuga-dōrō is a Japanese stone lantern in the style associated with the Kasuga-Taisha shrine. Second, it represents the five elements of the Buddhist cosmology ~ Earth, Water, Fire, Wind, Heaven. Third: With the exception of the firebox, Kasuga-dōrō can be configured in many ways. Fourth: It is usually displayed at the third torii (gate) to the temple.

Well, the Port's Kasuga-dōrō was a gift from the City of Kobe to the City of Seattle. It was over six feet tall. Massive! Really handsome. Granite. Heavier than hell. So, the mayor of Kobe was coming to town and someone decided that not enough had been done to the Kasuga-dōrō since it arrived as a gift in the past and in honour of the visit an exhibit / display was desired. STAT.

After many design meetings, much marshaling of craftsmen, the display was completed in time and on budget as the mayor of Kobe got off the plane in Seattle.

On Saturday, when Ramses and I were at Barb's for dinner, I was reminded of that project and the beauty of a Kasuga-dōrō in the garden. Barb and Rico's is a particularly nice one. Last winter, when everything was so dreary, we cleaned out all the pots on her deck and placed a lovely Asian bowl filled with rocks beside her Kasuga-dōrō. It was pretty all winter and through the spring as the rainfall wet the rocks making them shine bright black against the hibernating grass.

A silent sentinel. 

My little Kasuga-dōrō isn't nearly as grand as Barb's or as amazing as the one at the airport but, I love it all the same. It sits at the top of my driveway quietly doing its little stone lantern job. And, when all the perennials planted around it come up this spring, it will nestle even more gently into the garden.

Day 26 Everyday Grateful ~ 

the doors open to the back deck,

the air is still,

a sunny beautiful day.

Thankful.

Beautiful Goddess of the Garden

To paraphrase the great Rodgers and Hammerstein . . . Spring is Bustin' Out All Over

I was walking on my back deck between rain showers this morning and stopped to examine my pink dogwood. It's getting ready to bust!

Ah, dogwoods. Their beauty?
It's a mystery.

Beautiful goddess of the garden.
Translucent petals full of light.
Delicate. Elegant. Graceful.



They have no fragrance, look pretty dismal in the winter and are prone to breakage. And, don't even think of pruning them. When Joyce Kilmer said, "only God can make a tree," he should have mentioned, "Only God should prune a dogwood."













But, in the spring? Glorious when they bloom.

 

Oh, yes . . .

I have complete confidence pink dogwoods

line the path to Heaven

~ eternally in bloom.

The Power of Zen ~ the beautiful flourish

In life, it really is the little things that touch us most. The small kindness. The tender caress.

Last year for my birthday, my oldest son sent me a small bouquet of lilies. Beautiful. So, beautiful, in fact, I wanted to see them more than the usual FTD. I took them to my bathroom and put them on my counter in front of my vintage Venetian mirror.

Now, I have the world's smallest bathroom. One and half steps in and you're standing in front of the sink. Half a step to the right ~ toilet. Half a step further ~ shower. Weensy. But, nice.

I tucked my little tussy-mussy of lilies by the goose neck. Wonderful. Fragrant. Elegant. Luxurious.

His present reminded me how much I was missing that tenderness of spirit. I had forgotten to treat myself in a soul-satisfying way. Since then, twice a month, I put a small bouquet together for my bathroom ~ flowers from the store (in the winter months) coupled with variegated greens boxwood, Daphne, etc. from my yard.

This small $5.00 luxury feels generous and optimistic. It's easy to fall into the austerity mind-set so everything feels like a withholding grind; where every outlook looks grim. Fresh flowers are a friendly way to soften that grind. A small expenditure that feels luscious and hopeful.

Soul satisfying.
 

Baby Bunnies Redux

One of my dearest friends, Zenith McManigal, AIA, is not only a architectural boy genius but also the funniest man alive. So, I sent him the link to the tale of the bunnies in my back yard and got this:

In a message dated 3/14/2012 6:23:48 P.M. Pacific Daylight Time, Zen writes:

Cute!! Dear! You have such a Northwest Trek over there! All we have are raccoons & stupid coyotes that make us fear for the safety of our little Toy Fox Terrier Tula (Finley the border collie is big enough to fend for herself, as is Ramses).

Z

From Heidi ~ Sent: Wed, Mar 14, 2012 6:35 pm:

Hi Dear ~

Well, I did have a moments fright when I thought they were baby rats! Not that I would have done anything other than what I did but I did shudder. Northwest Trek, indeed. Last summer, I saw a couple (that's two, mind you) coyotes walking side-by-side bold as brass up the street chatting about life in the suburbs. Not a care in the world.

Did you like all the moss and black slime covering my pots, bench, and limestone in my photos? I like to think it's atmospheric and not a filthy disgusting mess. Which reminds me of the old Dennis the Menace cartoon. Dennis' parents on either side of the restaurant table with Dennis in the middle looking out of the panel. The caption ~ "I don't call it romantic. I call it dark." One person's atmospheric is another's filthy disgusting mess. Go figure.

H

From Zen ~ 3/14/2012 7:04:51 P.M. Pacific Daylight Time:

I prefer to think of it as having a rich yet bohemian-like earthiness........much like the patina on the bronze bells of the Cathedral of Notre Dame, or the rich sediment at the bottom of a bottle of Chateau Lafite Rothschild.....I'm thinking a '61........

Z