Gardening: Rocks and a soft place

JUST what it is that makes one garden great and another, while carefully laid out and well maintained, not quite so special is a question worth considering.

The best gardens, perhaps, are those that soothe and calm as well as excite and intrigue, that speak eloquently of the culture in which they have been created and reflect its history.

Among the greatest are those, surely, that move us to tears.

You'll empathise if you've visited the Moss Garden, or Saiho-ji, nestled in the foothills of the mountains that ring Kyoto, the ancient capital of Japan. Possibly the world's most serene landscape, this 2ha, cathedral-like garden has been on the UNESCO World Heritage list since 1994. The most extraordinary feature of Saiho-ji is the 120 species of moss -- in a variety of greens, from glistening emerald to brilliant yellow-green -- all of which appeared spontaneously.

In 1339 a leading Zen priest and gifted landscape gardener, Muso Soseki (1275-1351), set about reconstructing a garden first built on the site in the Nara period (710-794) that had been severely damaged during Japan's fierce civil wars.

Even though very different in atmosphere from other dry garden landscapes, Saiho-ji is considered the precursor to all kare sansui gardens in Japan, including the more famous rock garden at Ryoan-ji. Forming an integral part of the garden, but not its sole focus, the rock arrangements at Saiho-ji are softened by their coating of moss.

It is thought that the Muromachi period (1333-1573) Ashikaga shoguns, Yoshimitsu and Yoshimasa, were inspired by these rock formations, and by the Muso aesthetic, when they constructed the showier gold pavilion (Kinkaku-ji) and the silver pavilion (Ginkaku-ji).

Today owned by members of the Rinzai Zen Buddhist sect, the Saiho-ji garden, no doubt very different from that designed in the 14th century, incorporates several moods. First, the visitor enters a void: an expanse of white gravel, which is bordered simply by hedges clipped into the shape of clouds. Nearby is an exquisite, austere wooden temple hall that encapsulates perfectly the Japanese ideal of kirei sabi: beauty accompanied by the patina of age and personifying the ideal of pastoral simplicity.

There, the visitor takes part in a short ceremony in preparation for the contemplative nature of the main part of the garden: a mantra is chanted by the priests, while the visitor copies out, in calligraphy, an ancient text. The process is intended to purify the mind before the visitor walks through a small gate, into another world. This entrance is reached via a curving path of stepping stones, forcing a slowing of pace, ready for the calm experience that is to follow.

In this lower garden, which wraps around a meandering stream, light reflects on the still water and on the velvety moss that has spread naturally across undulating contours in the dappled shadows of the forest of black-stemmed pines. Islands in the water, each named, represent the Buddhist notion of paradise, while rock formations near the islands are, it is imagined, boats on the way to, or from, paradise.

A modest tea-house, just 4 1/2 tatami mats in size and the essence of refined rusticity, rests in a shadowy grove. This tea garden, where the serene ritual of the Japanese tea ceremony (cha no yu) is performed, perfectly exemplifies the Japanese ideal of refinement, understatement and mellow age. Again, a narrow, winding garden path, engendering quiet concentration, prepares the participant for the tea ceremony.

In this supremely restful atmosphere only the occasional fallen, crimson bloom of a camellia interrupts the mood of contemplation, simplicity and connection with nature.

The random sound of the bamboo deer scarer is all that breaks the silence.

The upper garden climbs through a forest of giant bamboo (Phyllostachys edulis) to a low hill and past a dry waterfall. Here, flat-topped rocks are in sympathy with the horizontal lines in this country of islands. They contrast with the vertical rocks in the Japanese gardens that are inspired by the soaring landscape of China and more elaborate gardens of the Southern Song period.

I've heard that Saiho-ji is at its best just after rain; that I want to experience.

PRUNINGS
Is anyone else concerned about their magnolias? My mature M. grandiflora 'Little Gem' -- which I have always considered foolproof -- has developed, during the past month, some crisped, brown clusters of leaves. I am hoping they have merely been burned by tea-light candles that I hung through its branches recently for a wedding in the garden. I am praying it is not the soil fungus that was introduced into Australian a few years ago and that is hitting golf course fairways and trees in parks and gardens.