The art of preparation
Tony Milne of Rough Milne Mitchell Landscape Architects on the mindfulness that comes with a readying for the changing seasons.
We had ten days. Not enough time to discover all the delights of Tokyo, but time enough to find delight in the many nooks and crannies that create this fantastic city. A well-considered itinerary curated by our son Jack provided time to glean a cursory understanding of the juxtaposition of tradition and modernity. As we explored the streets, lanes, alleys, parks and gardens, we found that care, nurture and respect were ever-present.
Staying in Tsukiji, we were adjacent to Sumida River. Most mornings, my day would start with a run along the banks of this river. While not a particularly attractive body of water, and signs dissuade swimming, its languid flow provided a comforting and identifiable element within a city I was getting to know. Its many bridges are each an experience in themselves.In places along its banks, people fished.
A “Konnichiwa” as I passed seemed to elicit a bemused look in response. I suspect such a dishevelled, perspiring mess they were not familiar with. All other runners I encountered were the complete opposite: tidy and without a bead of sweat.
A short stroll from our stay was the original Tsukiji fish market. Sashimi cut in front of you, skewers of octopus torched to your liking, sweet potato chips an unexpected but pleasant surprise. Even the scuttling rat was not enough to deter us. Satiated, a slightly longer walk we then took to Hamarikyu Gardens; a garden of the Edo period, steeped in history and formerly the private domain of the emperor.
Once a shogun’s falconry ground, Hamarikyu is a calm oasis of ancient trees, swards of wildflower meadows, traditional Nakajima-no-ochaya (a teahouse), skinny tracks through stands of bamboo, broad promenades flanked by mown grass, stone steps promising prospect, hummocky landform providing pockets of solace and retreat, delightfully detailed structures all arranged around a large tidal inlet pond, feed by Sumida River as it enters Tokyo Bay.
I’d run along the banks of that same river that morning, I tell the family. I get a similar response to that I received from those fishing. Interaction and experience of landscape is personal; we respond differently and that is how it should be. There was a reason we didn’t get an audio tour I remember, a little too late.
It was a beautiful late autumn day, and the gardens were a tapestry of colour with leaves of every autumnal hue imaginable. Quite the show. Autumn is also the season of preparation within the gardens. It is during autumn that the traditional technique of Yukitsuri is practiced. Originating from the Edo period, this is where a series of ropes are strung over trees in an umbrella-like appearance to protect them from heavy snow during the winter months. It is often the very old and brittle trees that have been grown and pruned for aesthetic beauty, making them more susceptible to breaking, that are protected like this.
Even in our short time in Tokyo I was very much appreciating the care and respect given to preparation. Preparation itself is both beautiful and thoughtful.
