Zilker Nature Sites: Taniguchi Oriental Garden 

            As I enter the garden, I feel like I am leaving the world behind. The humming and whirring of cars and traffic on Barton Springs Road fades into the distance as I am enveloped by the rich, green foliage and the faint sound of murmuring springs from below.  With each step on the gravel path, I feel calmer and more at peace.  The giggles of children echo from the rocky ponds below as the waterfalls splash their delicate skin and the vibrant fish intrigue their developing minds.  People sit reflectively amidst the islands, gurgling water and bright fish, learning as they coexist with the nature that surrounds them. 

            As I take my place next to a pond, I try to concentrate, to “read” the “book” of nature that is set forth around me.  I begin to understand that knowledge can come from so many places.  The print that we traditionally think of as literature is not the only form of literature.  Nature and experiences can also be read to find underlying themes and ideas that can motivate and teach the human spirit.  I feel a sense of serenity. 

I am in awe as I realize the coexistence of so many plants, bodies of water and forms of life.  The children and elderly are at peace with the fish, water and plants.  I am learning that “even the common pebble on the path or the grass, trodden by man or run over by a wheel, in its own individuality attempts to communicate with the heart of man” (682).  I am realizing the beauty in aspects of nature that I have never paid attention to before.  The rocks that surround me everyday are now mysterious and calming, providing shelter for the relaxed fish, containment for the pure water and entertainment for the curious children.  Everything is interlinked.  Everything works together to create beauty.  The rocks would not be beautiful if it were not for the crystal water they enclose.  The fish would not be gorgeous if it were not for the light flickering off of their bodies as it is reflected in the prisms of water.  The water would not be beautiful if it were not for the beautiful scenery that is reflected within it.  The area would not be beautiful if it were not for the interplay of nature. 

I begin to think of how amazing it is that this beautiful creation can coexist with the bustling city of Austin.  I wonder if other cities have amazing natural preserves like this.  Does nature still exist in the great cities of the world?  Is Central Park really a safe haven for nature?  Is it really a park at all?  Or has the city permeated every aspect of nature in the world’s biggest cities?  If it has, have we learned from our mistakes? As Austin and other cities grow, will nature disappear in them, as well?  When will we learn? 

I acknowledge that the world has “reached a point where we are facing a crisis in our own existence brought about by this inhumane competition, as seen in the use of atomic radioactive weapons” (682).  I think about the grave damages that are being committed against the environment everyday.  I think about the trash that is littered on the grass, the oil that seeps into the sweet water and the trees that come tumbling down in an effort for development to prevail over nature.  I see the bamboo bridge across a pond.  The water beneath it is calm and pure, and the bridge seems to perfectly coexist with nature instead of dominating nature.  I reflect on Taniguchi’s mindset when he was building the garden.  Taniguchi wanted to create a place for “everyone to feel good about being here, and to feel nicer toward each other” (685).  Building the bridge took the destruction of some aspect of nature, but the bridge has been placed to minimize any further destruction, a lesson that could teach the world about environmentally sensitive development.  In contrast with Taniguchi’s mindset, many of the world’s developers have a destructive mindset.  They prioritize themselves over nature and neglect to realize the wide-spread negative impacts of their actions.  Instead of trying to coexist with nature, the advocates of development carelessly promote chopping and shredding nature in an attempt to build a world that is “beautiful” in their eyes and “useful” for their ends.  What they don’t realize, however, is that not coexisting with the environment causes retaliation.  Global warming and erosion cause grave nature disasters that increase flooding and destroy human kind.  While the evidence is unclear, many believe that the destruction of the ozone is causing changes in weather patterns that we are not prepared to handle.  We have destroyed nature to the point where nature can’t protect us.  As a result of non-environmentally sensitive development, the eroding soil and destroyed forests can no longer provide shelter against the fierce and uncontrollable forces of nature. 

As I move closer to the bridge, I see the knots in the bamboo, and as I step onto the bridge, I begin a journey.  While the moon is not present, I felt the beaming of the sun guiding me as I cross the bridge.  I see its twinkling reflection in the water.  As I purify my mind with water, I acknowledge the incredible power of nature in our spiritual journeys.  I think about how much nature has faded from our lives.  Ancient cultures, such as the Japanese, established a close relation with nature in their everyday lives.  As Americans, I believe we have neglected to establish this relationship.  Instead, we focus on ways we can replace nature.  We play God in our attempts to recreate natural resources when we’ve begun to destroy them.  We don’t worship nature, we dominate it.  We attempt to create it.  What will be the long-term effects of this mindset?  When will we realize that we can’t always recreate?

            From my readings about Taniguchi, I know that this garden is the perfect embodiment of his peaceful and spiritual nature.  After I have departed this life, I would like to see my caring and peaceful spirit embodied in a reflection as strong as that of the garden.  In addition to a garden, I would also like myself to be embodied in an outdoor theatre.  A stage made out of already dead oak trees would sit in the pit of a canyon, with benches rising up the canyon walls, all made from recycled aspects of nature.  Nothing would be killed.  Trees that stand in the way of the construction will remain.  My theatre will coexist with nature, not destroy nature.  Any wood needed for construction will come from trees that were already killed naturally.  Small streams will trickle through the seating.  Paths will be constructed strategically to prevent further destruction.  The theatre will act as a natural forum for a variety of forms of expression.  People will be able to learn from the natural world that surrounds them while also taking in performance experiences such as plays and readings.  The serenity of the surroundings will put people at peace and ease as they take in the literature and drama that is being presented to them.

            Essentially, my visit to the Taniguchi Oriental Garden provided an opportunity to reflect on the mindsets that fuel various treatments of nature.