LAWNLESS Landscapes #3: A Tea Garden
by
Evelyn J. Hadden
January 27, 2002
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A stepping-stone path leads to my backyard "tea house".
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Perhaps one reason I don't use lawn in my garden is that it doesn't make a good hiding place. I want to
spend time outdoors unobserved, and I think of my garden as a retreat from other people (except my
guests, of course) and from the cityscape around me. That's why I designed my back garden to include
many of the elements of a Japanese-style tea garden.
But although this secluded area provides a relaxing place to settle down with a pot of tea and a book,
it's not just a place for solitary pleasure. The characteristics that make it comfortable and
interesting for one person also make it attractive for groups of people and various activities.
My family uses the tea garden for eating meals outdoors, observing animals, chats with friends,
and small parties.
Here are the key elements I've adapted from a Japanese-style tea garden to make my own garden retreat.
You can use the same elements to make a cozy retreat in your garden.
Sheltered Sitting Area
In traditional tea gardens, the main sitting area is
placed inside a small building with minimal furnishings. The building provides a feeling of
enclosure and shelter from the elements.
My "tea house" is a screen tent on a bed of wood chips, and inside I've arranged a couple of
comfortable canvas chairs that I use regularly and a couple of benches to accommodate groups. Screen
covers all the walls and doors, so the interior is relatively free of mosquitoes, bees, and other
insects. The roof keeps out the intense summer sun, rain, falling leaves, and bird droppings.
Planting beds surround the tent, and paths lead off from it in several directions. I often do my
reading and writing work there, pausing between tasks to watch plants and animals. Since the screen
shields us from their view, the animals visit the birdbath just outside the tent even when
half-a-dozen people are chatting inside.
Though it enjoys an extensive view, the screen tent feels like a mostly private sitting area. A
solid wooden fence surrounds the garden, and buildings and trees block views from the windows of
tall neighboring houses. Since we don't often sit in the garden during winter, it doesn't matter
much that many of these trees are deciduous; still, I've
learned to appreciate those that leaf out early in spring and hang onto their leaves late into autumn,
since they extend our season of privacy.
I've planted a few evergreens that will eventually provide year-round privacy, but they'll likely
need a decade or more of growth to do it.
Controlled Visual Focus
Traditional Japanese-style tea houses allow only a chosen
view of the garden, and the view is meticulously maintained to minimize distraction and promote
contemplation.
My screen tent doesn't block any views, and since my garden is a work
in progress, a glance around often reveals unfinished chores. I have found that it's easier for me
to ignore those chores and focus on what I'm reading or writing if there are attention-catching
objects inside the tent.
On the low coffee table in the tent, I've placed a wooden bowl full of textured objects -- shards
of amethyst, lava, and limestone; river rock pebbles; driftwood; a champagne cork -- that invite
closer examination of their contrasting surfaces. Letting my eyes or fingers roam over these appealing
objects refreshes my powers of concentration without bringing to mind any chores or plans, because
the objects (unlike the garden) are complete.
Even if I'm conversing with other people, I feel that having appealing objects within the tent subtly
contributes to our comfort and pleasure. If the only focus were outside the tent, we might be less
able to focus on each other. Providing focal points within the tent as well as outside it makes it
easier for people to choose where to focus, and to move their attention smoothly from inside to
outside and back.
A good way to draw attention back inside the tent is to decorate the floor. My tent sits on a square
bed of wood chips, and I've decorated the floor with a single row of stone pavers around the outer
edge of the bed and another row around the central table. A pattern of concentric circles (or
squares, in this case) subtly leads the eye back into an area.
For more ideas about materials and design of garden floors, check out Nigel Colborn's colorful,
useful book The Garden Floor: From
gravel gardens to camomile lawns.
Another way of drawing attention back into a space is to provide a focus in the center of the space.
A low coffee table anchors the center of my tent, a magnificent slab of limestone resting on two
other chunks of rock. It's sturdy enough to put one's feet up and large enough to hold a tray or
two of snacks, and the weathered surface offers ten times the textural interest of any other table.
(To a rock lover like me, this is the ideal table.)
These focal points -- bowl of objects, decorated floor, and central table -- partly compensate for
the extensive view my tea house tent provides, since they can be used to promote meditation in the
same way that the tea garden uses a controlled view.
Winding Path
The typical Japanese-style tea house is arrived at via a
winding path. In her book Tea Gardens:
Places to make and take tea, Ann Lovejoy writes, "Before approaching this inner sanctum, tea-takers
prepared themselves by strolling down a narrow path, which often zigzagged through a courtyard, in
order to ceremonially leave the world behind. The wandering line of the path was intended to confuse
any pursuing wicked spirits which might try to hinder those seeking higher development."
My back garden is only twenty feet by forty feet, but the tea house tent sits at the opposite end from
the back door, and the path to it changes from urban, civilized sidewalk to semi-civilized rock patio
and then to a looser, wilder trail of rocks. This change in materials has a subtle but definite effect;
the way to the tea house feels longer than it actually is, and the progressively more natural path
helps people shed some of their "street attitude" en route. So far as I know, the tent is also free
of wicked spirits.
Condensed Local Landscape
The plantings and rock or water features in a Japanese tea
garden attempt to express in miniature a part of the Japanese landscape. Raked gravel may suggest
an ocean, a planting bed might form an island in the center, and a group of carefully placed rocks
could indicate a mountain.
To be true to the spirit of the Japanese tea garden, my own garden must relate to my local landscape.
I've surrounded the tent with plantings that suggest native prairie, oak savannah, rocky outcrops,
and Great Lakes area woodland.
For a good discussion of different styles of Japanese
gardens, including tea gardens, and how to adapt their principles to American landscapes and
lifestyles, see the book Creating Japanese
Gardens by Alvin Horton.
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Use this time-tested design to make your own cozy garden retreat for solitary meditation or intimate conversation.
"A Tea Garden" is the third in a series of articles on LAWNLESS landscapes. Click the links below to view others in the series.
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