In the heart of Nara City, not far from Tōdai-ji, there is a Japanese garden called Isuien. Divided into a front section and a rear section, this pond-strolling garden takes in the distant silhouettes of Mount Kasuga and the great roof of Tōdai-ji as borrowed scenery, with water, trees, and stones resting quietly side by side.

On a summer morning, few visitors enter the garden. The surface of the pond lies perfectly still. A single drop falls from the tip of a pine needle at the water's edge, and ripples spread slowly outward, then fade.

Nothing special is happening. Yet the trees, simply standing where they are, and the stones, simply resting where they lie, give the garden its quiet, unhurried stillness.