San Antonio is such a nice, relaxing place to visit, and since the Sunken Garden is in the middle of SA’s biggest park and right next door to the Zoo (an air gondola links the two – a very fun ride when I was little!) it is a natural place to visit if you know about it. But it doesn’t suprise me that your garden network might have overlooked it – it really isn’t a garden that would garner special attention unless you were specifically looking for an old quarry that has been turned into a garden! THAT is the cool thing about it – the taking of what was a torn up hole in the ground and making it into a place for the enjoyment and cultural enrichment of the city. The city parks commissioner at the time had the kind of vision we want our public officials to have NOW – to have thought about how to reuse and repurpose the quarry space and integrate it into the park was a fantastic move! And I very much appreciate the elements where you see the quarry – the sheer walls, especially. It is a total art move, as far as I’m concerned. And I know you’d love that! XO!

Hey there Pam! WHAT??? In SA at the same time? We are getting closer! Some day our worlds will collide!
You are TOTALLY right – the Sunken Garden really isn’t a garden that stands out in a big way when I look at its singular elements- the plantings aren’t especially inspiring, and while the rustic hardscape is nice, it doesn’t wow me (although I love the pavilion). But – it is a place that speaks to a spirit of re-use, and that has given me a life-long attraction to grottos and caves. To me, it is a constructed space that is half garden half wild cave – I LOVE that!
One of my favorite posts of yours (of my many many favs – Digging it a wealth of awesomeness!) was the beautiful cave that opened into a pool that was surrounded by woods. That is complete natural beauty; Sunken Gardens is (I believe) an attempt to capture that same spirit. It doesn’t totally succeed, but it points the way! Gotta love that!

Nicole, how awesome is it that you gave us the background! Now it makes sense – it was re-dedicated! I guess I just thought it was some sort of gaff that was passed off back then as “oh well, Chinese, Japanese…” which would be awful, but not unheard of in my old neck of the woods.
How very sad that the Jingu family were evicted from the gardens – it makes me cringe … and I am so proud that Henry Cisneros (who will ALWAYS be Mayor of SA in my mind) re-instated the original designation of the gardens. Thanks so much for clarifying that for us!

Yes, Helen – magical especially at night, because there is so much conceal/reveal that goes on. And like I said, the perfect ‘Hide and Seek’ spot. Aren’t there just TOO many gardens to see?!? I feel exactly like you – how can I do it all? We’ll just have to figure it out!

Loree! MORE vacations! MORE!!! A San Antonio/Austin trek would be SO YOU!!!
I thought of you so much when I was at The Huntington Gardens this week – I’m doing a post soon full of our pet plants!

Always a pleasure to point out cool gardens, Expat dear! But I swear, I find something cool in MOST gardens!
XO!

Kimi Eizo Jingu, a local Japanese-American artist, moved to the garden. In 1926, they opened the Bamboo Room, where light lunches and tea were sold. Kimi and Miyoshi Jingu maintained the gardens, lived in the park, and raised eight children. He died in 1938, and 1941 the family was evicted with the rise of anti-Japanese sentiment of World War II.

The gardens were renamed the Chinese Tea Gardens, and a Chinese-American family, Ted and Ester Wu, opened a snack bar in the pagoda until the early 1960s. In 1984, under the direction of Mayor Henry Cisneros, the city restored the original “Japanese Tea Garden” designation in a ceremony attended by Jingu’s children and representatives of the Japanese government.

I’ve seen it once, in college with my sweetheart, and I enjoyed it but wasn’t wowed by it. I’m seeing it anew through your eyes though. Yes, personal memories make all the difference, and you can sure love a garden for those reasons.

Will I see you in La La land, ma cherie?
tendril