In Praise of Watering Stones
A look at misting stones to observe changing patterns as the stones dry
By Richard Turner and Thomas S. Elias
The avid viewing stone collector—the one who displays stones on nearly every available surface in his or her home and has a yard full of unmounted stones—can often be found outdoors watering their stones in the morning light with a cup of coffee in one hand and a hose in the other. It’s a pleasant way to begin the day and to “wake up” your stones. The moment the stream of water washes over them they blossom with enriched colors and glossy surfaces. In warm weather the color and the sheen quickly disappear but another splash can always renew the spectacle.
Time spent with your stones, much like time spent tending a garden, is relaxing and even therapeutic. If you don’t have a backyard full of stones that you hose down every morning, a single stone in a suiban and a spray bottle work just as well. We all need time to unwind, to relax. Misting water on a stone and watching the water evaporate encourages an extended engagement with a stone. It is an open-ended experience of uncertain duration that takes you off the clock so to speak. It is also an unpredictable experience full of surprises. The temperature, the humidity, the lighting, the time of day, the type of stone, and your own state of mind all contribute to the experience as it unfolds.
Given the unrelenting torrent of distractions of 21st century life, the idea of watching water evaporate from a stone may seem as boring and tedious as watching paint dry. If, however, one recognizes the practice for what it is—a possible antidote to the fast pace of life and the stress that accompanies it—then the Japanese notion of mono no aware offers a more useful perspective. The aesthetic appreciation of impermanence, and the transience of things is at the heart of time spent with a misted stone.
Misted landscape stone
To make the most of the time with your stone I suggest that you set your stone at eye level so that you can inspect it closely. You may want to stage your stone in a
suiban, prop it on a pillow or even hold it in your hand. This is an intimate dialogue between you and your stone. It is not an opportunity for display. The surrounding space is not party to your tete-a-tete. Your field of vision should be filled with your stone. How much water you spray on your stone will affect the duration of your experience. Outdoors, a light misting on a stone might evaporate in 10 to 15 minutes. Indoors, a heavy spray could take an hour or more to dry.
A session with a watered stone begins dramatically with the sudden darkening of the stone’s surface as it receives the mist from your spray bottle. The spectacular luster or exquisite sheen only lasts momentarily. Evaporation begins immediately and with it commences the capricious process of a liquid becoming a gas. Each stone dries differently. Discovering the subtleties of evaporation patterns is one of the main attractions of contemplating a watered stone. Typically, the peaks and ridges dry first, followed by the sloping surfaces. Rough surfaces tend to hold water longer. Crevices, fissures and depressions hold water the longest. On dense, dark, monochromatic stones with smooth surfaces the water may evaporate in fleeting patterns that dance across the surface. On lighter stones with convoluted surfaces and variegated colors the progress of evaporation may be difficult to perceive due to the rich articulation of the stone’s surface. All that you might be aware of is a gradual lightening of stone’s colors and the slow disappearance of the watery sheen. In some cases, evaporation occurs so uniformly across the surface of a stone that it is impossible to see. You know that it is changing before your very eyes but you cannot see it happening.
If your stone is a landscape, the patterns of evaporation can resemble the shifting patches of light and dark you see as clouds float lazily across a range of mountains or the floor of a valley. The momentary scent of the water vapor can lead your thoughts to the edge of a stream or the shore of a lake. Your mind wanders. The water continues to evaporate. The surface of the stone lightens. You scrutinize every detail of the stone looking for telltale signs of the fading luster and in doing so you see the stone anew. You wonder Is that section of the stone still wet or has it always been darker than the surrounding areas? Why have I never seen that face in the stone before? How did that bank of clouds settling on a mountain peak become a laughing skull? The discoveries are inexhaustible. The results of your scrutiny remain long after the moisture has gone, enriching your experience each time you return to the stone.
The water evaporating across the surface of the stone can briefly animate it, reminding you of the long-ago time when the stone was a volatile liquid. Those same fleeting patterns of evaporation can equally invoke thoughts of what it might be like to actually be a stone—mmobile and unaffected—as it dries out following a light shower.
There is never a clear signal that your session with your stone has come to an end, but suddenly it is over. Or is it? Is a sunset over when the sun has sunk below the horizon or is the afterglow the best part. Is your true reward the knowledge that you have experienced your stone as never before?
Chinese stone connoisseurs have long appreciated the beauty of stones shaped by water but there is no record that I have been able to find of them watering their stones to temporarily enhance their colors. On the other hand, in Japan collectors who have stones in suiseki exhibitions can occasionally be seen spraying water on their stones while they are on display. There are several ancient and modern references in Korean literature about stone watering. One example is Cho Myung Ho (1807-1887), a prolific Korean poet and writer, who coined the term "San Su Kyung Suk" (mountain water scenery stone) who sprayed water on his stones to enhance their effect. In both Korea and Japan watering stones to embellish their patina has long been practiced.
Stones that appear “young” are left outdoors and watered on a daily basis for years with the intent of giving them the gravitas of an “old” stone. It is a process designed to collapse time by accelerating the accumulation of a patina that might otherwise take a lifetime. Lightly misting a stone and watching the water evaporate is, on the other hand, intended to extend time, to slow it down for a moment.
Watching water evaporate from stones can lead us to an appreciation of the fleeting nature of time. Watering stones to age them offers a similar insight. This revelation is movingly expressed in a translation of the Korean book Authentic Suseok Appreciation published in 1982 by Jang Jun-geun. “Just as the wrinkles on one’s forehead grow deeper through the years while accumulating experience in stone appreciation, so too does a stone develop its water patina imperceptibly, over the passage of time. In a quiet moment of reflection, realizing that five or ten years of life have passed, a person may suddenly notice that a stone too has gathered its own water patina and aged, just like themselves. That moment becomes a revelation: the realization that the stone has become a fully matured water-patina stone. And in that moment, one is deeply moved by the poignant sense of having lived through the years alongside the stone, as well as a sense of stillness.”
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Elias, Thomas S. Korean Suseok, An Introduction. VSANA.org, February 1, 2025, www.vsana.org.
Jang Jun-geun. Authentic Suseok Appreciation. 1982, Seogo Publishing Company, Seoul.
Kruger, Don & Chung Kruger.
Native South Korean Stones (Seen from the West), VSANA.org, October 1, 2016, www.vsana.org.

