There is an anecdote, told and retold through translated Japanese literature, of a Zen master who is staying with a priest at a temple close to Kyoto. The priest is having guests over that evening, and he has spent much of the day in the garden—shaping the moss, plucking weeds, and gathering up the leaves in tidy arrangements, all in order to achieve the state of perfection the temple builders had originally designed.–Janwillem van de Wetering, The Empty Mirror
“Isn’t it beautiful,” the priest asked the master…
The master nodded. “Yes…your garden is beautiful; but there is something missing…”
The old gentleman walked slowly to a tree growing in the center of a harmonious rock and moss combination. It was autumn and the leaves were dying. All the master had to do was shake the tree a little and the garden was full of leaves again, spread out in haphazard patterns.
“That’s what it needed,” the master said.
[via A List Apart, dica de Fabrício]