A Courtyard Drama of Time: Sanming Taining Ming and Qing Gardens

#AugustGoodPlaces2025 Stepping into the Taining Ming and Qing Garden, the red walls and black tiles shimmered in the morning mist, the winding streets and alleys like the rings of time, taking you back hundreds of years. The curved lines of the eaves left a blank space, the stone pavement polished by shoe soles, and the wood carvings beneath the eaves told stories of family and travel. The teahouse was filled with the aroma of roasted firewood, and the bustle and tranquility, the elegance and simplicity of the market reflected each other: the drum tower beat, the sound of reading and the cries of vendors intertwined, and the occasional clapperboard sound from the garden stage, like a performance of an old opera for passers-by. The architecture is not a specimen, but rather a living being. Behind the window lattices, there are views, fireworks, and the lingering human touch. I paused by an ancient well, watching the mottled shadows of trees reflected in the water, and suddenly realized that the beauty of a garden lies in "preservation." It preserves a certain scale of beauty, and also preserves the relationship between people and the city. As sunlight streams over the walls, the fine grain of time emerges; as the wind blows through the animal-shaped eaves, only the rustling of leaves fills my ears. Taining Ming and Qing Gardens taught me to slow down—to appreciate the bricks, the wood, and the patience of a cup of tea. Looking back upon departure, those alleys, polished by time, are like keys, quietly unlocking for the traveler a love and respect for life.