Machiya Kyokisetsuryori Ringetsu

As daylight hours increase, mosses that withered under last summer's intense sunlight regain life, transitioning from a fresh yellow-green to lush and vibrant greenery. In mid-March, the Hisakaki flowers bloom, densely clustering delicate pale blue blossoms on slender branches, releasing a striking fragrance that wards off malevolence. By June, the movement of abundant flowers portrays a flowing effect, with white Nandina and Manryo showcasing exploded white grains, while evergreen trees rejuvenate sequentially from new shoots at the tips of their branches. Vigorous greens cover branches and gradually conceal garden stones. The varied hues of green set a tranquil rhythm, drawing the observer into an ethereal realm.

Under the intense summer sunlight, the moss at one's feet withers gradually, starting from the sunlit areas. Meanwhile, the greenery of the trees deepens its shades-vivid green, Tokusa, Oribe, deep blue-green, and dark green. The transitions in color, moving from shade to sunlight or from the base of the branches to the tips, seem to evoke a sense of tranquility. As midsummer approaches, amidst fatigue and heat overwhelming the ability to control consciousness, this rich green unconsciously invites one into a posture of deliberate resolve.

In early autumn, the moss, which appeared weak and engulfed in withered hues, gradually holds its own against the fading colors. Hidden in the shade of rocks and shielded from the sunlight, the moss begins to energetically release its spores. The tsuwabuki steadily extends its flower stalks, producing cool and refreshing yellow blossoms. At the back of the garden, the fatsia blooms with its playful, whimsical-shaped flowers, while the holly exhibits fleeting, sparkler-like blossoms. The white nandina, coral berry, and coral bush bear red fruits, and the swelling buds of the sasanqua camellias subtly reveal a hint of crimson.

A winter day under cloudy skies. The flowers of the camellias in the courtyard garden add bright and vivid red accents. At the center of the garden, the camellias, resembling a rising dragon, continue to bloom from December through March. During this time, the camellia trees produce large crimson blossoms, which fall within just a few days. However, the heavy and sizable flowers remain vibrant even after falling, leaving an impression and lingering resonance. The camellia petals scatter over the garden stones and moss. As spring approaches, the petals gently flutter, spreading deep green and red hues across the garden. It represents the duality of existence-a vivid, dreamlike world where illusion and reality intermingle.

When you visit just before sunset, you can feel the flow within the garden scenery. As darkness deepens moment by moment, the trees and garden stones blur their colors and shapes into the encroaching night. In an environment demanding increasing rationality, filled only with matter constructed through high-level rationality, we are forced to exert strong conscious effort during the daytime. This leaves us fatigued, burdened by the stark clarity of the black-and-white cross-section of a two-dimensional world. However, within the natural movements of the garden scenery lies an unbroken flow. The ability to sense such a flow within the cross-sectional world perceived through our vision might stem from subconscious memories-small fragments of information embedded in us, familiar to our bodies. It may be this subconscious, expansive three-dimensional world that our senses perceive which provides us with unconditional peace. As exhaustion overtakes us, allowing our minds and bodies to rest and close off conscious thought, our senses begin to work. This opens us up to feel the peace and freedom of the subconscious world, which we find unfolding deeply in the courtyard garden before our very eyes.

This moss grows closest to the room. Though it cannot be seen from inside, there is another cluster deep within the garden.

Its appearance resembles that of cedar, which is why it is called sugi-goke (cedar moss).

In spring, as more light begins to reach the tsuboniwa, the moss awakens under the gentle sunlight.

During spring, it takes on a beautiful yellow-green hue, which deepens into a rich green by June, when the sunlight grows stronger.

Although it resembles sugi-goke (cedar moss), it is a different species.

It grows in clusters near the white granite garden stone at the center of the tsuboniwa.

It is sensitive to intense sunlight, yet it does not thrive in overly shaded areas either. It prefers a moist environment.

Mountains are represented by white quartz and black serpentine rocks, while rivers are depicted using kanzuisha-fine white gravel.

At the heart of this karesansui (dry landscape garden), layered with contrasts of color, light and shadow, solid and liquid, we express both the fleeting nature of life and its enduring, powerful continuity.

Until the end of the rainy season, Kyoto has long been visited by towering cumulonimbus clouds-Tanba Taro from the northwest, Tanba Jiro from the west, and Tanba Saburo from the southwest. Each one arrives to blanket the sky and bring heavy rain.

"Tanba" is an old name for a region located to the north of Kyoto City. "Taro,""Jiro," and "Saburo" are traditional Japanese male names often given to three brothers in order of birth.


Around this time, the Senryo in our tsuboniwa begins to bloom quietly. Soon, the flowers turn into fruit. The green berries slowly swell, and as the cold begins to seep into the body, they ripen into a vivid red.

The flower's meanings are.･ wealth, profit, gifted talent, and delicate charm.

Each Nandina flower is less than a centimeter in size. Its center protrudes in yellow, gently surrounded by white petals. The flower's meanings include "happiness," "a good family," and "bringing fortune."

When the flowers bloom, the branches and leaves of the Nandina stretch upward vigorously, expanding toward the sky. From the very center, the flowers blossom straight and true, as if the entire plant is working together to bloom. This collective blooming may be the origin of its symbolic meanings.

Its form conveys vitality, yet its colors are subtle. The flowers are so modest that one might not notice they've bloomed for several days.

This is likely because the increasing intensity of summer sunlight causes the white and yellow hues of the flowers to blend into the light.

After pollination, the fruit begins to grow. From summer to autumn, the green deepens and the berries swell. By December, they ripen into a vivid red.

Reflecting this intensifying warmth, the red berries of the Nandina carry the message., "My love only grows stronger."

The acorn I picked up last year is awakening in its soft, mossy bed.

As spring arrives and weeds begin to stretch their shoots, I pull them once a week between preparations. During this season, camellia and sasanqua petals fall, and old leaves from evergreen trees drop one after another-these too must be cleared.

In this moment of tending the garden, I am enveloped by the piercing fragrance of Hisakaki blossoms.

Until I grow accustomed to the scent, it feels unpleasant. This is a time of activity, when the sympathetic nervous system is heightened. In other words, I am in a state of "fight" within the fight-or-flight response, adapting to the external environment.

Perhaps that is why this intense, information-rich fragrance triggers a flight response. Many people find the scent of Hisakaki unpleasant-this may be the reason.

Garden care involves simple, repetitive movements. Gradually, awareness turns inward. Thoughts shift into associations, emotional turbulence transforms into subtle sensory motions.

Heat leaves the body and mind, and calmness settles in. It feels like a process in which the stimuli and information absorbed by the body and brain are being sorted and integrated.

This calmness is a sign of spaciousness-a readiness to receive new stimuli and information.

In such a state, the scent of Hisakaki evokes a sense of mental clarity. Like the endless blue of the sky. Neither hot nor cold.

From discomfort to comfort, from outward to inward-this fragrance seems to answer the question.･ "What is freshness"

In Japan, Hisakaki has long been placed at shrines, altars, and graves. Its flower language is "solemnity."

I feel it has been a familiar symbol of "nobility" and "purity" for many people.

Blooming Camellia Flowers

Each year, several blossoms bloom in succession over a span of two weeks.

Most camellia flowers bow their heads toward the ground as they bloom. Their shape is slightly tubular, and their fragrance is faint. Yet, the blossoms are remarkably large-up to 15 centimeters in diameter.

After only a few days, the flowers fall without scattering their petals, retaining their full form as they continue to face the sky for several more days.

The flower's meanings are.･ modest virtue and ideal love.

From early December to late March, the sasanqua camellias bloom in succession each year.

In our tsuboniwa garden, four sasanqua trees are planted. The largest one stands directly in front of the room.

Seeking sunlight, its trunk twists upward like a dragon ascending to the heavens-hence, we call it the "Rising Dragon."

Over several months, countless blossoms bloom and fall, petal by petal. Their scattered brilliance resembles the shimmering scales of a dragon.

The flower language of sasanqua is "perseverance in the face of hardship" and "devotion."

The red sasanqua carries the meaning, "You are the most beautiful."

During the coldest time of the year, subtle movements of color begin to appear in the tsuboniwa.

The leopard plant (Farfugium japonicum), which has kept its lush green leaves in the shade, now blooms with bright yellow flowers in winter.

This vivid yellow brings motion to the tranquil world of deep green-much like the relationship between kelp and bonito in Japanese dashi.' the quiet and the dynamic in harmony.

The flower has two meanings.

The first,modesty, comes from its calm and refined appearance, deeply rooted in Japanese aesthetics. The second, resilience in the face of hardship, reflects its ability to thrive in shade and bloom during the harshest cold.

Although snowfall has decreased in recent years, several substantial snowfalls still occur between January and March.

As the tsuboniwa gradually turns silver, it feels as though the cold is settling deeply into the body.

Yet, beyond the long, dark tunnel lies a dazzling silver world-one that hints at the arrival of a new season.

Around December each year, the berries of the Nanten plant in our tsuboniwa begin to turn a vivid red.

The name "Nanten" sounds like the Japanese phrase nan wo tenjiru, meaning "to turn misfortune into fortune." Because of this auspicious association, the plant has long been cherished as a symbol of good luck.

Furthermore, its tendency to bear red berries in winter-when red is traditionally believed to ward off evil-has made it even more beloved as a protective and fortunate plant.

The red berries of Nanten carry their own flower language, distinct from its blossoms'･ "Happiness," "My love keeps growing," and "A harmonious home."

Due to its distinctive leaf shape, Yatsude (Fatsia japonica) is also known as "Tengu's feather fan."

In Japanese folklore, the Tengu is a legendary creature-part deity, part spirit-depicted with a red face, long nose, and supernatural powers. It is said to fly through the sky and dwell deep in the mountains.

High-ranking Tengu are believed to carry fans made of an odd number of feathers. These fans are said to possess powerful magical energy'. capable of stirring storms, causing wildfires, teleportation, and even influencing human emotions. Among mythical tools, they are considered the strongest-able to repel evil spirits.

Yatsude blooms from autumn to winter, producing clusters of small white flowers in a radial pattern at the tips of its branches. After flowering, the fruit transitions from white to green, and eventually turns black.

The name "Yatsude" literally means "eight hands," referring to its deeply lobed leaves that resemble open palms.

Its flower language includes'.

Friendliness'. The large, open leaves appear to be welcoming guests with warm gestures.

Health'. The leaves are thick, glossy, and deep green-symbolizing vitality. The number eight (yatsu) is considered auspicious in Japanese culture, and the plant has traditionally been used to repel pests.

Discernment'. This comes from the flower's clever structure, which ensures effective pollination-symbolizing wisdom and clear understanding.

The flowers of the Japanese holly (Osmanthus heterophyllus) bloom during the cold months of November and December.

Small, fragrant white blossoms appear in clusters beside its deep green, glossy leaves. After flowering, the plant bears dark purple-almost black-berries in early summer of the following year.

The scent of the flowers is reminiscent of fragrant olive (kinmokusei), but much subtler-only noticeable when you bring your face close. It offers a gentle, surprising sweetness.

In Japan, holly branches are traditionally displayed during Setsubun, a seasonal ritual held in early February to mark the transition from winter to spring. The pointed edges of holly leaves are believed to repel demons by pricking their eyes. They are often paired with sardine heads, which are also said to ward off evil spirits.

The holly commonly seen around Christmas, with red berries, belongs to the Ilex family and is known as Western holly (Ilex aquifolium). In contrast, the holly used for Setsubun is native to Japan and part of the Osmanthus family.

Western holly blooms in spring and bears red berries in early winter. Japanese holly blooms in early winter and produces dark berries in early summer.

The flower language of Japanese holly includes,

1,Foresight

2,Caution

These meanings are inspired by its sharply serrated leaves.

In spring and autumn, we collect moss that flourishes in our tsuboniwa and create bonsai arrangements, which are displayed throughout the shop.

We hope these quiet pieces offer a moment of calm and healing amid the bustle of daily life or your journey.