Today I worked in the area in front of our living quarters. A gold fish pond, some black wooden slats that form a deck and a wide space with small trees, flowers and bushes. All wildly growing.

I started taking care by cutting broken or dead branches, selecting interesting from less interesting plants, shaping them and taking out weeds. While I was cleaning the ground from freshly cut weeds, my tool started scratching on something. And just in front of the hojo, digging more carefully, I discovered a stone path.

Completely buried by gras and moos, this blue stone path was once worked carefully. Discovering bit by bit I felt grateful that there had been a person, maybe like me, taking care about the surrounding.

My hands in the soil, some raindrops, some wind. I like fresh air and working by myself.

Somewhere between the pine tree and the butterfly bush the path ended. I continued. Creating three generously stretched steps, slightly slanted, lightly curving, like water that seeks his way running down the hill.

It is not so easy to create a path out of randomly lying around stones. Some fit easily in size and shape, others are just impossible to integrate. Sometimes I got lucky with a whole series of stones and advanced quickly and than for an hour I was just turning stones in my hand. And sometimes I had to take a step backward, to move forward.