Fushimi Inari Shrine

Stepping from the train platform into the silent streets I wondered what I'd do for the hour and a half before sunrise. The Inari Fushimi Shrine never closes but from the imagery in Google Earth it appeared to be all forest uphill of the temples at the entrance. I had only 2 hrs before my meeting back in Kyoto would start. Might there be a warm building where I could meditate before climbing into the hills?

As I stood admiring the large shrine near the entrance a solitary man walked quickly past. I decided to follow. He wound his way along paths behind the temple and stopped in front of a small shrine where he began to chant. In a few hours this spot would be filled with pilgrims and noisy tourists but right now it was purely what it had been since the 8th century, a sacred, mystical place.

Fortunately, the pathways were lit with small electric lamps, so I began my trek immediately. The Inari Shrine is distinctive for its thousands of Torii (gates) that cover the trails winding through the forested and stream-filled hills. I was walking quickly, both to stay warm and in an attempt to cover as much of the area as possible in the time I had.

Walking the trails in the dark was decidedly spooky. Inari is the god of rice, sake, and prosperity, but foxes are the messengers of Inari and fierce-looking statues of foxes were everywhere. In what seemed to be a particularly dark portion of the forest invisible crows high in the canopy created an ominous cacophony. I kept moving, past innumerable shrines and, occasionally, unopened tea stands.

I soon gave up hope of retracing my steps, the intersections were too many, the trails too circuitous. Eventually, I'd find my way back. I realized that in my haste to leave the hotel and catch the first train of the morning I'd forgotten both water and the small pack of trail mix that I had prepared for my breakfast. I was feeling a bit light headed, having burned a lot of calories climbing the trails, and started to eye the vending machines outside the unopened souvenir stands. But I moved on, having set my sights on completing the 4 km loop of the trail system.

The sky began to lighten and it seemed that I had hit the apex of the trail. There was a major shrine there, with many, many inscribed stones, lanterns and small torii. Here I again encountered the worshiper, chanting with what seemed to be addition fervency.

Soon after I began my descent I encountered a tea stand/souvenir shop where a woman was just beginning to open up. She beckoned to me, indicating she wanted me to sit down by her small kerosene heater and warm up with a cup of tea. I gratefully obliged. I removed my shoes and sat cross-legged on a platform surrounded by statues and calligraphy. She brought a cup of tea and also a plate with something wrapped in paper and tied with a string. She said, "here, some good Japanese food". It was a delicious and satisfying treat which nourished me body and spirit. She refused payment. I asked her the way down and she pointed to an uphill path. Trusting that she understood where I wanted to go, I followed her directions which did indeed take me on the most direct route down.

Further down the trail I spotted a path leading steeply down through a bamboo forest. Wishing to experience it I descended on narrow, slippery stones into a clearing where there was a large shrine unlike all the others I had seen so far, with a more ancient, Stonehenge like feeling. It was clearly a place that was not frequented by tourists. A cluttered, disused path leading away from the shrine called me into the dark, tall bamboo forest (too dark to take pictures). Again trusting that it would lead me out, I proceeded and eventually emerged by what appeared to be a children's camp. Just a bit further and I was into a residential neighborhood. My GPS told me that the entrance was to my left, so I took a turn down a street and re-entered the central shrine area and was at the train platform just in time to catch a train back. Somehow, the transition from the eerie, mystical forest to the train filled with commuters did not seem abrupt or unnatural. All life is unfathomably mysterious.

photos