I somehow agreed to an 8:30 am tour at the Portland Japanese Garden in early March. I wondered what could possibly be interesting about a slow stroll through the damp, the cold, the bare-branches? I'm sometimes reluctant to go with Alan on his frequent visits; I prefer unkempt forest trails and meandering streams, where nature has its way.
The Japanese Garden may seem like a cacophony of design and yet, as soon as I pass that first archway, a quiet descends, a transformative hush. My busy mind is left behind.