I joined a tour group which started in Tokyo. To help with jet lag, my daughter planned my trip from SFO to arrive at Tokyo two days earlier than my tour group. As such, I also planned a two-day Tokyo trip for myself: I bought a ticket to see the TeamLab Borderless light show; I am going to buy rare gifts and to catch special Pokémon at the Pokémon Centers in Tokyo； I am going to eat Wagyu beef, to drink sake, and to wander the streets of Tokyo; I am going to visit the Tokyo Iris Garden and many other gardens…

Tokyo’s humid and muggy weather challenged the carefully planned outdoor trips and its complex subway system challenged me more, as I don’t like to ride on subways and easily get lost. Plus, Tokyo’s parks close around 5 p.m., so I didn’t have time to visit many parks in Tokyo. As a result, I only visited Hinocho Park (which I stumbled upon) and the Tokyo Iris Garden.

When I learned about Tokyo’s Iris Garden during the pandemic, I imagined the irises, shaded by trees, along winding paths, and beside flowing little streams, would create a magnificent, layered sea of ​​iris flowers during their blooming season. I was eager to see my imagination come to life, so visiting the Tokyo Iris Garden was on the top of my 2-day Tokyo to-do list.

It turns out the iris garden is inside the Meiji Jingu Inner Garden. Although the iris season had passed, I still bought a ticket to see the narrow, winding garden nestled in a shallow area, lush with iris leaves. Strolling along the edge of the iris garden, which was so different from my imagination, I felt that I teased myself using overactive imagination and I laughed silently. When I saw the unique names of irises: Kamari Nishiki, Satsuki Haru, Wada Tsukai, Sunset Stream, Fukamado Beauty, Monkey Dance, and Okitsu Shiranami, I stopped to take pictures and imagine the shapes and colors of the flowers that matched the names, immersing myself in the virtual game of Flower Delight.

(Names of various irises in the lush, leafy little garden.)

While passing by a large bush of after blooming season kerria in a corner of the Iris Garden, I recalled how I first learned what kerria flowers look like during the pandemic lockdown, and the places I’ve seen them: on the side of the entrance of corridor pavilion in Zigong Park, outside the Brandeis University campus in western Massachusetts, in front of the Wall of Love in the Jehan Rictus garden square in Montmartre, Paris, France, and the lyrics “Clusters of kerria, misty morning, quiet waterwheel huts” in the song of “Spring in the North”. “Flowers delight me like a virtual pen, repainting vividly the previous sightseeing of flowers in my memory and bringing joys back again.” Thinking of the longer adjectives that will be associated with this bush of kerria in front me: the kerria flowers by the Iris Garden, in the Meiji Jingu Inner Garden, in the Meiji Jingu Shrine, Tokyo, Japan, I can’t help but smile. The striking beauty of Kerria is unforgettable for flower lovers, as I still remember the large bush of blooming kerria flowers I saw in Zigong Park in my childhood. As a flower lover with good memory, I felt even in their off-blooming season, flowers can still delight me.

(A bush of kerria flowers, past their blooming season, next to the Iris Garden, in Tokyo July 22, 2025.)

(Kerria flowers blooming in the rain outside the Brandeis University campus in western Massachusetts, April 29, 2021.)

(Single-petaled kerria flowers in full bloom in front of the Wall of Love in Paris. 04-18-2022.)

There is a thatched pavilion high above the Iris Garden. Its thick thatch reminds me of the line “The triple thatch on my roof blew away” from Du Fu’s “Song of the Thatched Cottage Destroyed by the Autumn Wind.” I suspected this pavilion might bear traces of Du Fu, as his poem “The country is broken, but the mountains and rivers remain…” is often found in Japanese junior high school language textbooks.

The Inner Garden has few buildings, but abundant flowers, trees, and mosquitoes. The interplay of cicada and bird calls creates a low-key, natural beauty. I read in the tourist brochure that Emperor Meiji admired this place so much that he wrote a poem praising it which reads: “Deep in the woodland of Yoyogi, the quietude creates an illusion of seclusion from the city.”
(The cover of a brochure of Meiji Jingu Inner Garen: the iris garden in bloom, a thatched pavilion, and lush trees.)

Kiyomasa Well

Because I wasn’t in a hurry, I wondered around the Iris Garden for a long time before heading to Kiyomasa Well which provides a constant source of water year-round for the irises who thrive in a moist environment. While lingering by the well, I bumped into a Japanese family of four: father, mother, and two school-age daughters. I watched the couple kneeling down for a bow, then stood up and gently faned the air from the well onto their faces. Curiously, I asked the mother, “Why are you fanning like that?” She explained that they were absorbing the energy from the well, as the well is famous and has magical, and that by fanning the air towards us we can absorb its energy. I thanked her and imitated her, gently fanning the air from the well onto my face. She was delighted to see this, and we stood by the well and chatted for a while. The two daughters stood quietly next to her, her husband facing her nodding and acknowledging her occasionally. I felt it was a picture of family harmony. Hiromi Oguribayashi, unlike typical Japaneses ladies, is talkative, she wrote her name in Chinese for me and told me that she studied economics at a university in Tokyo, that her family flew here to visit Tokyo Disneyland (she told me where her home was, but I didn’t understand) and will fly back home tomorrow. She also said and that her daughters are 11 and 8. After they left, I stayed by the quiet well, continuing to appreciate its magic. Then a young couple came, and the boy skillfully bowed and gently fanned the air from the well onto his face with his hands. I felt that the sincere look on his young face added energy to Kiyomasa Well.

After leaving Kiyomasa Well, I followed the signs to the exit and sat on a stone bench under the shade of a tree on the top of the Iris Garden. Two girls passed by and asked, “Could we sit here for a while?” I quickly moved to one side of the bench and said, “Of course.” We sat on the same bench and chatted for a while. They were from the United States, third-year college students majoring in accounting. Wendy, who spoke Chinese, was born in the United States, she will stay in Japan for a month; Victoria, a tall Caucasian, will return to the US after a week in Japan. They were planning to leave after resting for a while. I asked if they had visited the Kiyomasa Well. They said no. I repeated Hiromi’s words: “Kiyomasa Well is famous and has magical. We can absorb its energy.” I enthusiastically demonstrated to them how to fan air from the well onto my face to absorb its energy. After hearing my introduction, they stood up and walked towards the well. I was happy to put my newly-acquired knowledge into practice as a tour guide for people who had come from afar. Of course, I knew that Kiyomasa Well might not have magical powers. I remembered what the priest said to Eileen in the movie “Miracle Club” which I had just watch during my flight: “The real purpose of the pilgrimage was to sustain one’s faith even in the absence of miracles.” I felt that what I saw and did at Kiyomasa Well was a reflection of the priest’s words. The Kiyomasa Well may not has magical, but Hiromi’s family, the young boy, and I all felt its magical energy at the well. I also passed this magic on to the two American girls. The magic is human love.

(The isolated and tranquil Kiyomasa Well.)

Visiting Tokyo’s Iris Garden, I once again experienced the feeling of “following my interests, obeying my physical strength, exploring foreign lands, and being enchanted by all the beauty, it’s like a dream come true.” How wonderful!

While sitting and walking in the flower blooming April court garden, I was not bothered by tearing nor sneezing, the common symptoms of pollen allergy, and I praised myself for my well-prepared trip, as I took with me eye drops to relieve itching, ginseng slices and ginger slices (a home remedy for treating pollen allergy), and alcohol-marinated garlic (used as sterilizing). Being a senior traveling alone, I pay careful attention to avoid getting sick and maintain a good appetite without diarrhea and constipation. To expedite going to the paid restroom, I prepared Euro in coins right after I arrived in Germany. Today, I planned to stay in the garden for an entire day because I knew someone knew about the nearby restrooms. But on the door of the very old restroom in the Residenz there are only German words without symbols. Thinking “Her” is female in English, I guessed “Herren” would be female in German, and I almost embarrassed myself. Actually, “Herren” refers to men and “Damen” refers to women. When I saw the men’s and women’s restrooms with symbols at Frankfurt Airport, I thought it was people friendly, so I took a picture.

When I met families in the garden, I usually took a few more looks at them, as I had noticed that flower loving families were relaxed and joyful while walking in a garden. Being a flower loving solo traveler who is often in a garden, I felt people who love flowers and family carry unspoken joy and kindness.

It was very apparent that people bypassing the bright red quince flowers did not stop to enjoy the quince, unlike the many people who stopped to enjoy the blooming magnolia and take photos of the magnolia flowers in the garden on the left side of the Residenz. Although bright red quince flowers have a big advantage over pale magnolia flowers in terms of color, the former is less-known than the latter and is ignored by many garden goers. Wandering around the quince bush, I tasted the subtle feeling of being left out in the cold from my favorite quince flowers, feeling pity for beauty in my leisure; wandering around the quince bush, I saw a spectacular natural bouquet: in front of the red quince and purple lilac was a large green wall with a door that was shaped by cornelian trees, and at the end of the green wall were blooming pink cherry and white magnolias. In this small corner, my mother’s favorite magnolia, my favorite quince, lilac, and cornelian all presented a panoramic view to me, which created an atmosphere with a vaguely floating feeling and a lingering emotion.

At dusk, a gardener riding on a bike around the gravel road of the garden called out that the garden would be closed soon in English. On my way back home after walking out of the garden, I was intoxicated with the pleasure of watching beautiful flowers all day in the garden and heard someone singing on the roadside from a distance.

Following the music, I went into a side road and saw a male singer sitting on a high chair and holding a microphone singing. There was a black stereo on the ground next to his chair playing the sound track and a green box for tips and a stack of brochures on the ground two meters in front of him. Looking at the scene behind the singer, the sunset splashed gold on the white building to make an elegant and bright artistic background for the singer, I thought he had the good taste to pick this place as his natural stage. Because it was late, the passer-by in a hurry didn’t stop to listen to his song. However, the singer who didn’t mind the missing audience sang beautifully with passion, so I stopped to listen to him sing to show my support. The more I listened to him sing, the more I liked his voice. After finishing the first song, he sang a second song, which was an American pop song that I was very familiar with. However, tonight this song impressed me more than ever before. After enjoying beautiful flowers in a garden for an entire day by myself, I enjoyed the beautiful male voice of “I say love, it is a flower” which was full of emotion. This lyric made me feel that flowers have a soul. After spending a day in the garden with me in their natural form, the flowers waited by the roadside to let the singer express their feelings in such a way that touched me deeply. I felt thankful to attend a special concert of American pop songs with the soul of flowers after doting on flowers in a German garden for an entire day. From the song, I heard my soul: “The flowers I love and my love are in harmony: love is a flower, and flowers contain love.”

Little Episodes

1. 04-16-2022, in this small corner, my mother’s favorite magnolia, my favorite quince, lilac, and cornelian all presented a panoramic view to me, which created an atmosphere with a vaguely floating feeling and a lingering emotion.

2. 04-16-2022, in the Wurzburg Residenz Court Garden in Germany, a threesome family bypassing the blooming quince, the father and the son who was on crutches walking side-by-side in front with empty hands, and the mother with two bags was walking behind wearily, a picture of a mother pampering two big boys:

I remember a scenery that I saw on Natural Bridges State Beach in Santa Cruz California a few years ago, a picture of parents pampering their teenage son. Then I remember that my neighbor and friends sighed: “Nowadays, lots of young men are spoiled by their parents” and that some mothers joked about treating their husband as a son. While looking at the threesome family bypassing the blooming quince, I felt that making casual jokes is one of the nice ways to laugh at oneself and feel a sense of relief.

08-2016, on the Natural Bridges State Beach, in Santa Cruz California, a threesome family enjoying the beach, the father on the left, the son in the center, and the mother carrying a big bag on the right.

04-13-2022，many people who stopped to enjoy the blooming magnolia and take photos of the magnolia flowers in the garden on the left side of the Residenz. 【looking at Magnolia】 At dusk, I sat in my favorite place watching magnolia, one of my late mother’s favorites, being loved constantly by many people… I told my mother: “You enjoyed this very beautiful scene, right?”

04-16-2022, people bypassing the bright red quince flowers did not stop to enjoy the quince and I felt sad for this:

3. I was asking my daughter where the restroom is and which one is for females.

04-21-2022, the men’s and women’s restroom with symbols at Frankfurt Airport:

4. At dusk, a singer is singing on the street.

5. The 1979 pop song “The Rose” written by Amanda McBroom. In my memory “I say love, it is a flower” was sung solely by female voices.
Some say love, it is a river, that drowns the tender reed
Some say love, it is a razor, that leaves your soul to bleed
Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless aching need
I say love, it is a flower, and you, its only seed

Its the heart afraid of breaking, that never learns to dance
Its the dream afraid of waking, that never takes the chance
Its the one who won’t be taking, who cannot seem to give
And the soul afraid of dying, that never learns to live

When the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long
And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong
Just remember in the winter, far beneath the bitter snows
Lies the seed, that with the sun’s love in the spring becomes the rose

The COVID-19 pandemic has lasted for more than a year now, so conventional social gatherings have also stopped for more than a year.

In the middle of May, the weather is getting warmer but not hot, and the school spring semester will soon be finished, well-respected Professor W commented about the more than 2-hour long gathering celebrating his retirement as “the most pleasant surprise” this year. These words, the time, and the weather stirred a longing for a gathering among my daughter’s friends, including the retired professors. Everyone was enthusiastic for a recital. Professor A prepared an opening speech for the recital, Professor W will bring his own sound system and saxophone to play, Grace and Shirah practiced together for a piano and vocal piece.

Due to COVID-19, the originally planned indoor recital moved outdoors, in Rachel and Carey’s backyard, and it is called “A Garden Recital”. Rachel invested lots of time and resources on this garden recital by planting many flowers in their backyard. My daughter bought a big tent, as the weather forecast predicted rain on Sunday afternoon. Rachel prepared cheese, fruits salad, and baked cakes ahead of time. She also bought a few 2-Tier or 3-tier cake stand fruit plates.

At noon on Sunday, Alex, Carey and I set up the tent in Rachel and Carey’s backyard. Their four children brought the food, drink, and utensils to the garden and set up the chairs too. Grace and Lou brought their electronic piano from home. Shirah brought home-made self wrapped sweets too. A few of us were busy working from noon to 2:00 pm to stage the backyard for a garden recital of sixteen attendants. This preparation experience helped me realize that the hostess who is hosting a family garden recital is indeed a warm-hearted capable organizer. Thanks Rachel!

The early summer family garden recital was very successful. Professor A’s opening speech was focused on his research area, Grace played the piano, Shirah sang a few Italian and German opera songs, some with Grace playing piano, some just by herself. Rachel and Carey’s twin played the instruments that they will be playing in their school concerts soon. Professor W. brought his own sound system and played a few pieces of music on his saxophone. After the garden recital, we all enjoyed the delicious food prepared by Rachel, chatted about little episodes with keeping social distance during this pandemic, and little stories of family members.

Today, Rachel showed me the new additions to her garden, I learned that a white flower is called bleeding heart and wondered why a white flower got such a blood name. After the recital, Martha and I enjoyed the beautiful flowers in the garden and she pointed to the bleeding heart and commented: “The shape of this flower is like a heart, a small drop of red from the heart shaped flower, so it looks like the heart is bleeding.”

Little Episodes

At the opening of the garden recital, Professor A gave a speech. Rachel and Carey’s children were sitting outside the tent. Here under the tent sat: Maratha, Professor W and his wife, Lou, Alex, my daughter, Grace, Shirah, Carey, Justin, and Rachel.

The chairs in the garden recital:

The food prepared by Rachel:

Rachel was chatting (from left to right):
Shirah, Grace, Rachel, Professor A., Lou, Martha, Professor W. and his wife:

Alex, Rachel, and Lou:

Shirah, Grace, Rachel, and Lou:

Pretty Shirah and Grace with Lou:

Two days later, I found the bleeding heart flower described by Martha:

It was raining in the morning and I took an umbrella out for a walk.

On this cloudy rainy gray day, all the trees still have bare branches, Waltham didn’t seem to have any sign of spring, although the purple and white magnolia flowers in California were already in full bloom, and the canola flowers in my hometown Zigong were now all in golden color.

When I walked across the campus bridge over South Street, I saw a tree full of yellow flowers on the slope at the end of the bridge. The yellow flowers with raindrops were sparkling.

In the rain, I stopped at the end of the bridge. One hand held onto the umbrella, and the other hand held onto my iPhone to take photos of the yellow flowers. I didn’t realize that my holding my umbrella I was getting in the way at the end of the bridge.

A hurrying teacher stopped beside me and waited for me to make way for her to pass.

As I stepped aside, I pointed to the sparkling yellow flowers and said: “Look, the flowers are blooming.”

The teacher turned her head and saw the tree full of yellow flowers and sighed: “Wow, It is so pretty!”

She looked at the yellow flower tree and suggested as she walked away: “If you can photograph the contrast between the dead leaves and the yellow flowers, it would be prettier.”

”Thank you. Have a nice day!” I happily replied.

I stood at the end of the bridge, watching the teachers and students rushing to their classrooms in the rain, enjoying a picture of the traditional “Going to school in the morning” in fine days at a school campus on the East Coast.

In China, “Morning, go to school” is a completely different scenery now. Because of the coronavirus, high schools and universities have begun to teach online; teachers teach and answer questions through video conference at home, and students listen and ask questions through video at home. “Going to school in the morning” means students don’t need to get out of the house or care about the weather anymore in China.

In a very short period of time, this coronavirus has provided a new model for “going to school in the morning”, which shows that the reform of educational methods is not always difficult. (Coronavirus has quickly promoted the online teaching methods that may require long-term evaluation and small-scale testing and reviewing feedback in normal time, to such a great scale : colleges and middle schools across the country. Heroes are rising in difficult times!)

The tree full of yellow flowers on the slope at the end of the bridge:

Today, on a rainy summer Sunday, while buying summer flowers, I thought about how “life be beautiful like summer flowers” from the Indian poet Tagore (1861-1941).

I bought a bunch of colorful flowers: red roses and carnations, purple, yellow and white chrysanthemums. Although it was in Massachusetts with four distinct seasons, “cold resistant” Autumn chrysanthemums were in full bloom in summer, which made me realize that greenhouses had made seasonal flowers lose their concept of the seasons.

Looking at the beautiful chrysanthemums in their simply layered petals and their many layers of gorgeous curved petals, I remember Chengdu, the place where I saw the most varieties of chrysanthemums in my life. While attending college in Chengdu in the 1980′s for four years, I took buses from Sichuan Normal University to Chengdu People’s Park to watch the Chrysanthemum Exhibition in October.

I like chrysanthemums, because my mother liked chrysanthemums. Then I thought of my unique experience with buying chrysanthemums for my mother who loved flowers very much in the past.

In the last few years, I often ordered flowers online as birthday or special day gifts for my parents, as I had more free time to appreciate their love from far away. Every time after receiving the flowers, my mother would happily describe to me how beautiful and charming the flowers were, in our small talks which crossed the ocean. The flowers I ordered online were mostly lilies, orchids, carnations, roses, etc.

In 2011, while staying with my parents in Beijing, I saw huge beautiful white chrysanthemums in a flower shop one day, I bought a few of them to give to my mother. I thought my mother would be happy to see such beautiful chrysanthemums. However, I was surprised to see her slightly unhappy expression when she saw the white chrysanthemums at first sight. I knew I did something wrong, but I was not sure what. I didn’t ask my mother why she was unhappy and my mother didn’t say a thing about it either. Still, I was ofent puzzled about it in my mind.

A few years later, my friend Yang and I chatted about our mother and I told her the story of how my mother was unhappy to see white chrysanthemums I gave to her. After hearing my story, Yang said, “Miss, do you not know that white chrysanthemums can’t be used as a regular gift to people in Chinese culture?”

After that, I studied online and found: “White chrysanthemum has the meaning of mourning and remembering the dead in Chinese culture. It is suitable for funeral, worship and tomb sweeping. It is not suitable as a regular gift.”

My ignorance of sending white chrysanthemums that made my mother unhappy was a memorable episode. While telling my daughter the story of “I once gave your grandmother a bunch of white chrysanthemums”, I added, “I have no taboo feelings towards flowers, only sweet feelings.”

Little Episodes

1. Famous pome about chrysanthemums
《吟菊》
唐 白居易（772－846）

一夜新霜著瓦轻，芭蕉新折败荷倾。
耐寒唯有东篱菊，金粟初开晓更清。

Night frost attached to the roof tile, the banana and lotus were frosted too.
Only chrysanthemums are cold resistant, they blooming in the morning fresh the air.

2. I translated “Summer Flowers” by Tagoreinto Chinese in the way I felt。
Thanks to my late mother who passed to me the trait of “Love years stationed in the belief。”

I hear love, I believe in love
Love is a pool of struggling blue-green algae
As desolate micro-burst of wind
Bleeding through my veins
Years stationed in the belief
我倾听爱，我相信爱
爱是一池挣扎的蓝藻
似阵阵微风
吹拂我的血脉
信念经年不变

I didn’t know that the star magnolia could be such a huge tree, as I had only seen the petite-sized star magnolia in the Filoli Gardens previously.

In Filoli in the Silicon Valley, the small and thin stems of a short star magnolia tree have long Spanish moss hanging on them. The grayish-green colored lichens growing on them indicates the star magnolia tree is an old slow-growing tree. However, the star magnolia flowers are very delicate and beautiful, they are full of life, contrasting with the ancient moss and lichens on the branches. Standing beside the blooming star magnolia tree, short and aged, I felt its quiet and magical immortal spirit.

One afternoon at the end of March in 2021, I visited the Boston Public Garden and there were very few visitors because of COVID-19. I lingered around a very tall star magnolia tree there, as it was very impressive to me. I stood close to look up at the star magnolia blooming under the blue sky, and I walked away to watch the tree from distances and I saw a golden weeping willow, next to the star magnolia tree, dancing in the strong wind. It was such a beautiful sight, the tranquility and beauty of the metropolis.

Looking up at the very tall star magnolia tree with flowers, the ethereal spirit connected with the star magnolia tree in my memory disappeared. On the contrary, I felt an earthly vigorous connection with the star magnolia tree here. The same plants have very different body structures (very short vs. very tall) in different places, I felt the magic of nature is really infinite.

Looking up at the name tag of star magnolia on the trunk, my attention turned to the scars on the trunks, there are decades of footprints of countless vows of love by a few generations. I felt the scars on the tree trunk are mini-sceneries of wishes for lasting love.

Walking around the huge star magnolia tree, I seemed to ride on a memory high-speed train, enjoying magnolia flowers back in my hometown of Zigong, watching the tall yellow-colored magnolia flowers and the short star magnolia flowers in Filoli garden in Silicon Valley, visiting the magnolia liliiflora planted by the cardinal in 1951 in Mystic Seaport.

“Flowers out of the soil, beauty without makeup.”

Flowers easily pleased their lovers.

Little Episodes

1. In the Boston Public Garden on Monday afternoon, the blooming star magnolia, her tall trunk, and a golden weeping willow in front of her.

Spring travel, Boston Common on a Monday afternoon:
Star magnolia, delicate and in full bloom.
Its scarred trunk recorded countless vows of love.
A few people, strong wind, and good scenery.

2. Zigong salt bureau’s white magnolia is in my memory. Filoli’s star magnolia and yellow-colored magnolia are in the picture.

3. In the spring of 2020 pandemic, my daughter and I often took a one-day tour driving on the empty highway. One day we went to Mystic Seaport, a quiet town, and saw a magnolia liliiflora tree planted by a cardinal in 1951. Magnolia is really noble as my mother told to me when I was little.