April 3, 2023 - Kamejikan
Gardens are not static things. They take time. They are time. Spring is an exciting screengrab in the garden’s temporal existence. Flowers are blooming, hummingbirds are swooping, and lizards are just starting to scurry from the shadowy porticos in the rock piles. These intimate little moments are the single notes that make up the garden song. I have always struggled with the early stages of these compositions, since there are only a few random notes it can be damn near impossible to fathom what the thing could become.
Gardens are always becoming. That is reassuring and alarming. Impermanance in practice.
This past weekend we celebrated the emergence of our tortoise friend with a small garden party. It was beautiful to see people planted about the mulch and desicating penstemon buds. Gardens are about buds!
I once stayed at a cute little guesthouse in the quaint beach town of Kamakura. At the front door a wooden sign greeted me with a depiciton of a smiling turtle. The guesthouse is called Kamejikan. Years later I discovered that “kamejikan” means turtle time. I like that and say the word often just for kicks.
This little post is a quick reflection on gardens taking their sweet time. Most photos are from our personal garden which we started messing around with in the early months of 2021. A few other are of client projects.
sorry for the delay in posts, it is a busy time and I’ve been enjoying the nice weather outside. I hope to be more regular in my updates as the heat sets in.
open to suggestions for post topics, feel free to hit up the chat.
peace and peaches
-e