or lazily observe the great velvet-blue butterfly, cho-cho-no-hana, or ‘insect like a flower,’ that flits from bloom to bloom among the Irises, softly, as if they were petals blown by the breeze.
So, if the bridges went matter-of-fact-ly over the stream, we should arrive too quickly, and the end, even of the largest garden, would come all too soon. But, instead, they start boldly at one angle, are seized with an inspiration, as a fish is, in midstream, and dart off on another tack; then, perhaps, may be happily reached the best spot from which to view the Wistaria reflected in the waters below, and so a little resting-place is fixed, and after awhile the bridge goes on unconcernedly to a place on the opposite bank.
One of the most attractive sorts of bridges, the yatsu hashi style, is really little more than glorified stepping-stones, long slabs of rock or of wood that go zigzag fashion through an oozy bed of Irises.[1] Like a bird’s low flight, skimming this way and that only a few inches above the water, one can see into the very violet depths, into the golden triangles that nestle in the hearts of the flowers; the glittering edges of the sword-like leaves might almost cut one’s feet, so close is the flower-viewer to the object of his admiration.
- ↑ An example of this sort may be seen in Mr. Tyndale’s other book of Japanese pictures, on p. 72 of Japan and the Japanese.
