Japanese Tea Garden

Time stops here. Everything looks like they're moving in slow motion– even on days where the trees are blown by the vicious wind. But even when Mother Nature doesn't want to give us a chance to relish her, Father Time always seems to take a deep breath and rest for a while in this garden.

A wooden gate separates this place from the loudness of the outside world. With just a couple of steps into the gate, the clunking sounds from moving machines rushing through the park fade into tranquility. Squared, uniformed buildings with coordinating beige colors are nowhere in sight. They're replaced by a single red structure made entirely out of wood with pointy rooftop, surrounded by trees and miniature Buddhas hidden by the grass.

I like to close my eyes while I sit on the wooden chair prepared for visitors like myself. And when I close my eyes I can see through what I hear. I hear the pond, alive with endless, gentle sloshing, caused by the happy fishes that come from the other side of the world. I hear the rustling of pink blossoms of cherry trees as they give in to the power of the breeze. I hear the faint sound of the waterfall, and the laughter of some children sharing their snacks with eager squirrels.

I open my eyes because somebody poured tea into my cup. I said thank you to the girl as she puts down a bowl of snack next to it. Enjoy, she said. I looked into the bowl and I see some nuts, a rice cracker, and a fortune cookie that begs me to crack its shell. So I reached and concur.

Cookie says, “Smile. Tomorrow is another day.”