Long ago, it was said that the wind carried the voices of the Sakura.  Each blossom, a fleeting story.  Each petal, a memory drifting toward the future.

In this land of water and stone, the echoes linger still.  Step onto the boat, and the journey begins.  The river winds like time itself, carrying you past Lantern Island, its lights shimmering as though guiding lost souls' home and Turtle Island, where patience and wisdom endure.

The cherry blossom groves rise in a gentle blush of pink, reminding us that beauty, though brief, is never forgotten.  Beneath their branches, laughter and sorrow, beginnings, and endings.  All find their reflection in the drifting petals.

The waterfalls sing with the voices of ancestors, cascading from the mountain where the temple rests, a guardian of silence and reverence.  Two houses stand nearby: one for shelter, one for tea and reflection and the other offering rest along the path.

This is not just a garden. It is a memory carried forward.
A place where past and present whisper together.
A reminder that life, like Sakura, is precious because it blooms only for a moment.

Welcome to Echoes of Sakura.