Add a dash of 'wa'

A Japanese garden takes shape at Frog's Glen

Terashima-kun is waiting for the space to grow in. He will wait a long time.

Ever design a Japanese garden? Yeah, me neither. But a few weeks ago Toru and I decided to give it a go.

I figure this is Japan. Examples abound. And my partner is Japanese, so he’s got some magic DNA going on that will help in basic ingredient and placement decisions—he’ll keep me at least from making rookie errors.

Most of our garden space—outside this one Japanese corner—is a hodgepodge of flora natural to the area. Naturel a l’environement local for our French readers. (Oh shut up. Post your corrections in the comments.)

There are hydrangeas, grasses, butterburs, a maple, a sakura, and simple ground covers that grow wild on the peninsula. I’ve always wanted, however, a traditional Japanese garden space, and Frog’s Glen has offered me my first real opportunity. Let’s pray I don’t mess it up.

We drew out a simple idea and then hopped off to the garden center for the fun and easy part. Shopping.

A substantial part of our design, at least to start, is to be gravel, and calculations said we needed about 25 bags. You’d never guess how many kinds of rocks are available in this country. After reviewing whites, pinks, browns, greys, and multitudes of mixes thereof, all in sample dishware placed in front of the bags, we chose a medium-size black granite gravel. It was the right price, plus I felt it was auspicious because unlike the other packages these said “Silicone coated!”

“Sold!” I thought. My only guess for the mysterious silicone is maybe it makes the rocks more…washable? This is Japan after all—the nation washes and rinses its rocks. Moss and stains are endemic here due to the humidity but should those flaws should be “fixed” if at all possible. (Note: don’t believe all that wabi sabi stuff. That’s just for coffee table books sold to…uh you and me.)

In fact, Toru did smartly block my idea of one whiteish stone “because we will spend years trying to blast all the moldy green stains off of them.”

I thought, “Yes. You would spend years shooting steam all over the rocks (in vain).” But I had to agree the greenish mess is not the look we are going to love in two years.

As this is one rain-soaked island and odd grass seeds and pollens blow in on every breeze, we also laid down a thick “Anti Weed Sheet” below the gravel bed. One look around this valley, in both gardens and on farms, tells you that the Anti Weed Sheet makers make a killing in Japan…

As for garden elements, we quickly agreed that a red weeping maple would occupy one corner of the garden space nearest the house. We also planted a white wisteria sapling in another corner and built a very simple Japanese arbor that it will soon attack and hopefully own in the next few years. Horse tail grass, fine fluffy cattails, and ferns form the rest of our start. (Daffodils, which I’ve noticed covering this valley in winter, will also go in when bulbs are ready at the nurseries in autumn.)

Finally, we found a use for three stupidly big rocks we found below the soil as we prepared ground months ago—they’re off near the wisteria helping to boost the zen. Imagine they’re lonely volcanic islands rising out of a brooding, blackened gravel ocean. Thanks!

Toru surprised me this morning. He said, “Take a look at the Japanese garden.” Without me knowing it, he had packed the trunk of our car with a large ceramic pot from Tokyo. Today he added soil and water, some lilies and lotuses, and six gold and white medaka (Japanese rice fish*).

It’s perfect. Thank you, Japanese DNA! The medaka pot brings some action to the space. While we will be the only ones aware, those fish busy themselves eating insects day and night! Together with the frogs, I warmly welcome the assist.

Before hope.

I have a British friend who has lived for decades on the opposite side of the Sagami Bay on the Izu Peninsula. He has a fabulous, jungle like garden that includes several deep ceramic pots overflowing with lotuses. I noticed that every time he swatted a bug, he’d wordlessly walk to one of the pots and throw the crushed bug in. “Dinner for the fish. They go nuts for this stuff,” he said.

Today we found that three houseflies had somehow breached Frog’s Glen’s screens and entered the house. Toru and I patiently hunted each down, swatted, and gave them to our new medaka.

The feeding frenzy has continued for the last hour out there.

*Is anything in Japan translated into English without mentioning the word rice? Why don’t we just go ahead and call Shiba “medium rice dogs” and Akita “large rice dogs?”