Portland's Japanese Garden

The stones.

The water.

The plants.

The essence of the Japanese Garden. Designed painstakingly to be a quiet bastion of relaxation, balance and harmonious partnership with nature.

It seems I have been writing about my trips to Portland lately, more than our life in Alaska, but fear not, gentle reader, we'll get back on theme. I have been travelling to spend time with my kids and try to repair our relationships.

Back to the Garden: it is absolutely worth the time to visit, relax the mind, take in the environment, and let everyday concerns take a short vacation.


Our visit was actually Arianne's idea. My daughter is very smart on alot of issues, but especially astute when it comes to the emotions. Her suggestion to spend the afternoon at the garden proved to set us all at greater peace.

We happened to arrive inside the front entrance just as a wonderful Japanese Garden volunteer was about to start a guided tour of the 5-acre sanctuary. This delightful lady (whose name I wish I could recall) took us through the five primary gardens, explaining the history, symbolism, and interpretation of what we were seeing. We were especially taken by the amount of time and energy put into the seemingly smallest details... the placing of a single stone, the care of the koi, the gathering of small stones off the beach (all the same size, shape and color) to be used in the pools. I have always thought that there was much truth to the maxim that says "the devil is in the details." The Japanese also believe this, as we soon figured out.

Since we were there on the weekend, they had a sale of Japanese art in the main building. There were a number of local artists on hand, working their magic while we watched. One woman was a painter, who showed us how to blend colors on a brush to create very beautiful designs: many colors all within one stroke, forming the wings of a butterfly. Then she made a leaf for the butterfly to land on. It was delicate and simple, yet very beautiful and full of "chi," or life energy. Next, she drew some bamboo in shades of black on white rice paper. She showed us "flying white," which showed as patches of white in otherwise darkened areas, which made the stalk look more real and 3-dimensional.

We also saw two potters at work, which my co-writer Lars would love to describe, but he can't recall all the details. Suffice to say, they were assembling a large vase on a round pottery wheel, working together different pieces to create impossible curves. It was cool... and required patience neither of us have.


Lastly, there was the view. How many people have captured this classic image of downtown Portland from this spot? The only negative aspect was the overcast that prevented us from really being able to see Mount Hood in the background. We could barely see the gleam off the snowy summit against the thin high clouds, so we knew it was there.

We strongly suggest that you spend some time here yourself, and see the same wonder that we did.

Lars and KML