Every day is a good day, proclaims the hand-written Japanese calligraphy hanging in the alcove.
Beneath the scroll, a vase containing a single branch of plum blossoms completes the thoughtfully placed display. Taking my place along the wall, I watch the other guests enter as I did, at first scooting across the threshold on one's knees, then rising and walking toward the alcove to perform the simple ritual of first looking, then bowing to honor the scroll and flowers placed there. Having carefully prepared all that would be needed for the occasion beforehand, our host enters, wearing a lovely silk kimono and carrying the items needed for tea. She moves with the ease that comes with years of discipline, a discipline required to serve tea as it has been served for nearly three centuries. One senses that the event is connected with the ancestry out of which it emerged, yet this time it is truly new.