The narrow path that winds off into the cushion-like shrubs doesn't look as astonishing as the way ahead, where a Buddhist stone pagoda stands tall and there is an alluring sound of a waterfall in the distance. However, there is something about that winding path that piques my curiosity, and as I follow it through the rolling bushes I suddenly get the sensation that I am walking among clouds.
Surprised by this feeling of floating lightness I wander back and forth, before letting the path lead me out to a veranda overlooking a lake formed from glistening white gravel, the green clouds I just walked through easing around it.
On the wooden bench next to me, here in the flat garden (hira niwa), there is a young man sketching. Respecting his moment, I silently absorb the stillness of the softly raked ripples around the islands in the lake.
With your current subscription plan you can comment on stories. However, before writing your first comment, please create a display name in the Profile section of your subscriber account page.