Nature Journal Three (NJ3): The Koi Sadness

Nature Journal Three: The Japanese Garden

            I decided to take a walk through the Japanese Garden at the Fort Worth Botanical Garden Center. I was curious how the cultural differences in nature appearance could be assimilated to urban Fort Worth. I thought it would be an especially interesting opportunity after listening to Tomoko Arakawa speak to our class in our urban shoebox.

            I walked through a large dojo door to enter into the preserve. It was full of luscious flora as a greenbelt filled my vision. Small stone paths with sand carried my feet through the exhibit.

The smell of Jasmine and Thyme tickled my nose as the aroma dripped down from the plants arching the pathway. A bamboo palisade guarded the flora from any outside inhabitants. As I made my way through the jungle, I saw a rock formation sitting in a pit of sand. Absolutely still as if it was trying to escape a shark. The wake of sand erupted from the epicenter of the rock. What does this rock formation symbolize? The anthropomorphism in the rock echoes as if it jumped in a lake and the ripples followed. The creature in the sand pit posed many questions. Where did it come from? Why is it here? Is it strategically placed? A question that Tomoko perhaps could answer.

            As I continue my journey, I notice the lake of the exhibit. The waterfall in the corner provides life to the park as the sound echoes as a morning bird’s song.  Mother nature’s sunshades begin to move along. The powerful beams of the sun reflect against the water, illuminating a school of Koi fish in the waterfront. I make my way to the bridge to examine their exuberant pallet of colors. The colors strike the water with energy as they glide through the wake. The scales are the doing of mother nature’s hand as her artistic brush reflect a pink and orange fusion. Then, my perspective of beauty was interrupted by horror. The longer I stand on my perch, the more fish that gather and begin to talk to me. However, they are not trying to talk or play, they are looking for me to provide them with food. Food that was offered at the begin of my journey, that I denied. The children looking for candy pushed each other aside, vaulting over their own family as if I was their savior of some sort? Were they crying for help? When was last time they ate? My trip was now cursed with sadness as the fish, in their own habitat, have been conditioned by aliens to beg and jump amongst the beauty of the exhibit.

            The exhibit was stunning as it provided my senses with new smells, sights, and tastes. However, it was extremely sad that such magnificent and gorgeous creatures have been influenced by humans to lose their natural way of life. This experience changed my viewpoint on exhibits or zoo’s that use animals as props for human enjoyment. I noticed the varying sizes of the fish. Was that due to the stronger one’s ability to vault over the smaller fish and get food? Were they genetically bigger? Does their advantage in size lead the other fish to quiver in the darkness? Questions ring through my head as I leave the exhibit in a cloud of sadness.

Dojo Entrance

Rock Formation

Koi Fish surrounding me