It was no surprise that the Japanese gardens were like palaces of nature and colour. With that much greenery and serenity, nothing you’ve ever seen would even compare to the beauty that these gardens show in the four seasons.
In the sweet spring, the water is mixed with the soft cherry blossom petals and the soft breeze, leaving trails of ripples behind. Colourful fish would always dominate the crystal waters as the sunlight reflects the surface making it look like a mix of watercolour pens. Every time you set foot onto the spiralling patterns of the polished pebbles, the golden goddess would feel your wonder and share a bit of it’s light, making the pebbles glisten and glow. You would feel like you were stepping on an array of gemstones.
The summer brings not just the obnoxious heat, but roaring thunderstorms that showers the gardens with minute droplets of water. After the saturated sunrises, the rushing stream’s supply of water would become jade green, dominated with disc-like lily pads. Nevertheless, the most beautiful feature is the arched willow tree washing it’s flowing silk hair in the streaks of water.
The autumn has a paintbrush. Dabbing the leaves and pillars of the temples in the Japanese gardens randomly, they leave a trail of red and orange behind. The cool breeze will always pick up around this time, chasing the pools of water. Winter has a different approach. It yields a pencil. Sketching along the lines of every garden in Japan. Even the ruby pillars cower in its presence, being drained of its colour slowly. As the frost comes, the stream freezes over, finally, it becomes a mirror.
I hope I can visit the garden of Japan every season again sometimes. Maybe the seasons would have a different approach.
Hello Sisley,
I absolutely adored reading your description of the Japanese gardens: it was stupendous!
Very well done 😀
I’ve attached your feedback to this reply.
Dear Diary,
It was no surprise that the Japanese gardens were like palaces of nature and colour. With that much greenery and serenity, nothing you’ve ever seen would even compare to the beauty that these gardens show in the four seasons.
In the sweet spring, the water is mixed with the soft cherry blossom petals and the soft breeze, leaving trails of ripples behind. Colourful fish would always dominate the crystal waters as the sunlight reflects the surface making it look like a mix of watercolour pens. Every time you set foot onto the spiralling patterns of the polished pebbles, the golden goddess would feel your wonder and share a bit of it’s light, making the pebbles glisten and glow. You would feel like you were stepping on an array of gemstones.
The summer brings not just the obnoxious heat, but roaring thunderstorms that showers the gardens with minute droplets of water. After the saturated sunrises, the rushing stream’s supply of water would become jade green, dominated with disc-like lily pads. Nevertheless, the most beautiful feature is the arched willow tree washing it’s flowing silk hair in the streaks of water.
The autumn has a paintbrush. Dabbing the leaves and pillars of the temples in the Japanese gardens randomly, they leave a trail of red and orange behind. The cool breeze will always pick up around this time, chasing the pools of water. Winter has a different approach. It yields a pencil. Sketching along the lines of every garden in Japan. Even the ruby pillars cower in its presence, being drained of its colour slowly. As the frost comes, the stream freezes over, finally, it becomes a mirror.
I hope I can visit the garden of Japan every season again sometimes. Maybe the seasons would have a different approach.
-Sisley
Hello Sisley,
I absolutely adored reading your description of the Japanese gardens: it was stupendous!
Very well done 😀
I’ve attached your feedback to this reply.
Sisley feedback 9- outdoor description