There are many ways to define a city.

Such things as economic factors, geographical features, achievements in the arts and culture, and the like, can all be used in shaping a city's identity.

Virginia Stibbs Anami's way of defining Beijing seems to be unique, however.

Anami was born in the United States in 1944 and became a naturalized Japanese citizen in 1970.

She has lived in the United States, Japan, Pakistan and Australia, as well as in China, with her diplomat husband, Koreshige Anami, the current Japanese Ambassador to China.

Over the past 20 years, Anami has spent a great deal of time in Beijing. What has continuously interested her are the capital's ancient trees, stones and water.

"Looking at Beijing within a framework of trees, stone and water is a way of appreciating the city's heritage, based on a special relationship between man and nature," she said.

Her zeal for trees, stone and water in Beijing is so strong that she takes photos and writes short essays every time she encounters new examples.

A book containing these photos and essays, which make up part of Anami's precious memories on the one hand, and also serve as perfect narrative vehicles conveying the history of Beijing on the other, has been published in English by China Intercontinental Press.

"The essays and photographs are only a fraction of my adventures. I chose those that were the most exceptional or that pointed out the variety of experiences and places this capital has to offer," she said, adding that she hopes her work will encourage people to explore this dimension of the city's great heritage.

Cross-culture discovery

Anami focused on East Asian history and geography in both her undergraduate and graduate studies in university.

A devoted historian, she developed a passion for studying and exploring the city's historical sites during her three extended periods of residence in Beijing since 1983.

In the process of exploring Beijing's ancient ruins, she found that things such as an old well or spring, a couple of gnarled pines, or maybe a stele or an abandoned stone cave are also markers of the past.

One of the greatest rewards in her search for old sites, she says in the book, was getting to know so many imposing ancient trees.

Frequently such trees were the only vestige of history left at an abandoned temple or grave site, but they helped her to identify the old sites.

Many trees, Anami has found, have unique appellations, which has stirred her interest in learning about their background.

She also keeps an eye out for inscribed stone slabs that provide information about the construction of old temples, imperial patronage and grave commemorations.

With the rapid development of the city, these steles have often been moved or damaged, but many remain at their original locations.

Gradually, Anami developed a sensitive feeling for these trees, stones and water, which few others pay much attention to.

With her shrewd historian's eyes, she is able to see far beyond them.

"These three facets of nature hold much of Beijing's past. They helped me define and respond to the sites I visited. Often they maintain the atmosphere of these places, long after the rituals there have ceased," she said.

Even casually flipping through this fine book, one cannot help but admire Anami's acute sense of detail.

"Just follow along the deep cart ruts cut in bridges or the stone paths trodden by former pilgrims and you will feel the moss of history," she writes in the book.

People-to-people

The book, as Anami admits, is not intended to be either a guide or a comprehensive presentation of historical facts.

In addition to writing about her encounters with trees, stone and water, she has also emphasized her encounters with people from all walks of life.

Her search through the streets and hills of the city for old temple remains also led her to people.

"The hospitality and resiliency of local people ... is one of the very satisfying parts of these adventures," she said.

Sometimes residents would leave what they were doing and spend the whole day walking around with her.

Some of these stories are put under the heading "Unforgettable People," as these short essays go beyond the focus of a particular tree, stone or body of water.

"They are part of the city's collective history," she said.

She even met many legendary historic figures, whose names are eternally recorded in the country's history.

In the area west of the Drum Tower in central Beijing, the narrow alleys haven't changed for several centuries.

On one morning in early December, 1996, walking along one of these alleys in search of places noted on her historical map, she said she was lucky enough to meet Liu Jingquan, the former chef for the last emperor Puyi.

Liu told her the story of how his family had been chefs for the imperial family for four generations.

Another time at Guanghua Temple (Temple of Great Transformation), she met the temple's senior abbot, the Venerable Xiuming.

When they met, the abbot was 91, still spry, and able to greet visitors in French, English and Japanese.

As a young man from a wealthy Beijing family, he had travelled to France, and studied in Lyon with a group of Chinese students. Xiuming told Anami that Premier Zhou Enlai was part of that group, as was Marshal Chen Yi.

On the same day she also met China's last imperial palace eunuch, the late Sun Yaoting, sitting solemnly in the corner of a room, wearing a brown leather jacket and black-padded pants.

"Beijing's narrow hutong probably hide a legend behind every door," she said.

And her timing was right. Aged people were still around who could remember the earlier layout of various sites and could relate what they had lived through in the more than 50 years since 1949 when New China was founded.

Preservation

Another thing that pleases Anami very much is the increasing appreciation for the city's old trees, stones and water, and understanding of the need to and the ways to preserve them.

She can still remember her first visit to China in 1976, when her encounter with Beijing's ancient trees began.

It was on her way to the Ming Tombs (the imperial tombs of Ming Dynasty, 1368-1644). She found many great gnarled cypresses and pines lining the road, giving it the air of a sacred colonnade.

Upon returning in 1983 she drove this road again.

To her shock, the giant trees were being uprooted to widen the road. Scattered all along the way were the stumps and torn-up roots of these 500-year-old trees.

Today, thankfully, such things rarely happen.

(China Daily June 2, 2004)