In Tokyo's parks and gardens

Think of Japan and you think of trees, the ubiquitous flowering cherry and plum trees of springtime, the brilliant leaves of Japanese maples in autumn, bonsai trees in ceramic pots, cedars towering in forests, bamboo groves and pines cultivated to curve over ponds. They revere their sacred trees. They protect them too, many very young, very small or very large, old trees being neatly bandaged in hessian wraps. I looked this up. It is to protect the trunks and bark against frost bite, sun scald and parasitic insects. In the winters they wrap their most precious or vulnerable trees in straw as well.

In this post I'll try to describe some of the gardens I visited this August in Tokyo. People had warned us about visiting Tokyo this month; because it is so excessively hot out of doors, I thought that the shade of trees would be welcome. It was.

On our first day, Saturday, August 3rd, still jet-lagged and culture-shocked, we headed for the park around the Imperial Palace; this is a wide open space beyond the moat and stone walls and people were finishing a run there, gasping for cold water. The option of queuing in full sun to tour the Palace didn't appeal. Chinese tourists don't mind; they carry parasols. It was already 39°C in the shade but at least we were in the shade when we crossed the road into leafy Hibiya-koen, the location and appearance of which I remembered from my last time in Tokyo --- that had been in February. Pine trees bent over Shinji pond near a corner where ancient burial relics are kept. Pine trees leaned over the water in which were ducks and fish. In one of the park's restaurants a smart wedding was taking place. At the far end four girls pranced and sang (out of tune but with plenty of energy) on a temporary stage, entertaining the crowd.

Cosmos field, Hamarikyu Gardens

More walking through streets between skyscrapers, under motorways, half-heartedly searching for something to replace the clothes in my missing suitcase, in vain, brought us that afternoon to the Hamarikyu gardens, where I'd also been before and had thought lovely. This park, for which we paid a small entrance fee at a discounted rate, is an oasis of quietness in the busy neighbourhood of Shinbashi / Shimbashi and the Shiodome, but we wished it had offered more opportunities to sit down. We did eventually find a bench in some shade, with a fine view of the city and of nearby courting couples, at the summit of a small mound humorously called Fuji San (Mt. Fuji --- I saw the Fuji San in other Tokyo gardens too). Near the entrance is a 300-year-old pine tree, its spreading limbs propped up on multiple crutches. A field cosmos sulphureus was a mass of bright orange, and near the central pond is a newly renovated, thatched tea-house, beautifully put together without nails, inside which the heat was even more intense. Outside we could feel a breeze at least.

Steps up "Fuji San", Hamarikyu Gardens

The following day we headed for another park, the museum district at Ueno. There are shrines here too. This was another place I'd discovered in 2012 that Chris didn't yet know. As I'd anticipated, he liked it as much as I did and even suggested we go back there on our last morning in Tokyo before we flew back to Canada, which we did. On that first weekend we saw a cellist busking by the central walkway, a Westerner, and further along, in contrast, a young man practising his kendo swordsmanship, very Japanese. Near the fountains, we also watched an group of five or six sporty Japanese students practising an energetic and difficult routine with two skipping ropes. Down the hill by the Tokyo zoo is an extensive lotus pond, the Shinobazu Pond; the buds had opened and I was thrilled to see the huge pink flowers among those huge, umbrella like leaves. Another part of the pond is for pedal boats shaped like pink swans, very reminiscent of the scene at Beihai Park in Beijing, where they have the same sort of boats.

At the Fukutoku Shrine, close to our hotel, is a miniature forest garden, complete with a hill, stone steps up it, stepping stones around it, and a freshwater spring. At night, spotlights shine through the undergrowth to illuminate the leaves above, a magical sight. Soothing music is broadcast in the background to go with the sounds made by the water and the leaves in this miniature, urban forest. Although space is scarce in the city, Tokyo citizens often cultivate container gardens on the street and doorsteps round their houses. At the brand new workplace (not yet officially opened) where Chris worked this month, a small botanical garden has been planted all round the front of the building, many of the plants labelled with their Latin names. I also came across a roof garden overlooking the central station, at the Kitte building and a flower shop on Chuo Dori in the business district the other side of the central station, where passers-by are encouraged sit and rest amongst the tropical plants.

Mid-week, on the recommendation of a friend I went to see the much more extensive Meiji-Jingu Shrine. This shrine, dedicated to Emperor Meiji and his wife, has a large inner garden, with a fish pond full of water lilies and a shelter with a thatched roof. Apparently, 100,000 trees were brought here to be planted from all over Japan, a godsend on such a hot day. "Kiyomasa's Well" is a spring from which a little stream flowed towards the pond, deemed to be a sacred place.

On another day, I visited the Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden, walking there from Shinjukugyoenmae Station on the Marunouchi Subway Line. Gyoen means Imperial Park (established in 1879 --- before that, it had been a botanical garden since the 18th century). The park had been destroyed by bombs in the 2nd World War and afterwards reconstructed. Long row of "sycamore" trees with benches under them. French / English formal garden at one end, traditional Japanese garden at the other. Woodland around the perimeter. Himalayan cedars, sequoias, a plane tree, etc. were indicated on the map of the gardens. Overlooking one of the ponds was a Taiwan Pavilion built on the occasion of the wedding of the Showa Emperor, and all the ponds featured those Japanese stone lanterns that I find so attractive. Inside the lavish tropical greenhouse, the air felt cooler than the air outside! I also sat in the cafeteria to cool down with a "cake set": a slice of green-tea-coloured, layered cake served on a tray with a glass of fruit juice. for which there was a complicated ordering system involving a ticket machine.

On our second weekend we crossed the Sumida River to see the Kiyosumi Gardens, created in the 19th century. During the Great Earthquake of 1923 and the bombing of Tokyo in 1945 "...this garden saved many lives as an area for refuge." We had been there before, as well. This serene spot has stone lanterns again, and turtles swimming near the stepping stones. There are Buddhist relics in a secluded corner including a stone relief of the Three Wise Monkeys, and a haiku by Matsuo Bashō is carved onto the face of a standing stone near the place where irises grow.

An ancient pond.
A frog jumps in.
The splash of water.