Exploring Autumn Pathways at the Portland Japanese Garden
The bridge at the Portland Japanese Garden framed by maple leaves at their peak autumn colors.
After years of seeing photos of the legendary lace leaf maple at the Portland Japanese Garden, I finally made the pilgrimage to see it myself. It is one of the most photographed trees in the world, so it was no surprise to see a dozen photographers lined up and waiting in line. Some were veteran pilgrims who chatted about past years when they caught the light just right or managed to arrive before they blew away all the leaves. My turn finally arrived to sit and scoot by the tree, aiming my wide-angle lens into the contorted canopy. After my allotted fifteen minutes, I returned to the end of the line and repeated the routine like a kid who can't get enough of the roller coaster at an amusement park.
Up close and personal with the famous maple tree at the Portland Japanese Garden.
A wide view of the famous maple tree at the Portland Japanese Garden.
The famous maple tree at the Portland Japanese Garden.
I came away with a few keepers and was glad for the experience, but it wasn’t especially satisfying. I am much more interested in sharing about my visit to the garden a week later when the mighty little maple tree was completely bare of leaves.
Freed up from the tyranny of the garden’s obvious composition and the stress of crowds, I explored the pathways with fresh eyes and a curious spirit.
A shroud of fog hung in the air. It was like a landscape floating in the clouds. The ponds were swollen and murky from recent heavy rains.
I stopped by a towering maple with orange leaves that framed the strolling pond and put the famous tree in perspective. It looked so tiny and insignificant in the whole scope of things. See if you can locate it in the photo below.
The strolling pond at the Portland Japanese Garden on a foggy autumn morning.
I lingered by the waterfall and noticed the hillside of evergreens that disappeared into the mists above.
The waterfall at the Portland Japanese Garden in Portland, Oregon.
I meandered around the bend and took in the giant cedars that formed a natural gateway to the bridge.
The bridge and pathway at the Portland Japanese Garden on a foggy autumn morning.
On the other side, I was greeted by a maple variety with striking red leaves that provided a colorful window through which to see the bridge. This was my longest stop of the morning and it provided the most rewarding photos. In contrast to the paint-by-numbers composition of the famous tree, it offered one of those times when you lose yourself in the moment.
The bridge at the Portland Japanese Garden in Portland, Oregon, frames by deep red maple leaves.
The bridge at the Portland Japanese Garden framed by maple leaves at their peak autumn colors.
A quick Google image search reveals that I’m not the first photographer to discover this perspective, but that doesn’t take away from the uniqueness of the experience. It’s something closer to what the designers of the garden had in mind.
Stopping and finding a peaceful space to look closely at the details — the color tones of the leaves and the glisten of their surface, the shape of the bridge, the trickle of the creek, the calm on the surface of the water, the tangle of distant branches. I was absorbed in the experience. I’m always grasping for those moments in this photographic journey, and I’m grateful to the folks at the Portland Japanese Garden for providing a place for that.
When I was done with my little residency at the bridge, I turned to go to the next stop and I realized another photographer was standing behind me. He was waiting for his turn.
