12,000 Steps

by Alice Hutchins (United Kingdom (Great Britain))

I didn't expect to find Japan

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The fox moved effortlessly out of the forest, past the trees and through the red pillars. She paused to read the kanji, freshly painted in a thick black lacquer, wishes of love and health and good fortune. Blinking twice, she carried the words with her as she pattered up the steps, the cold stone feeling like home beneath the pads of her feet. It was a journey she made often, in the quiet hours when no one was around to see. As she reached the shrine at the top of the mountain, all of the candles were suddenly alight. And in the shadows, she took on her true form, letting her long auburn hair fall upon her back. With human hands, she drank from the sake that had been left as an offering by the people in the village below, and picked up the silver coins from the ground at her feet. Before leaving the shrine, she took a single incense stick and placed it in the sand, gently blowing the swirling smoke to make sure it carried good magic to the surrounding woods. With a twitch of her ears and furry tail, she descended the steps once again. And if a lucky onlooker were to catch a glimpse of her as she passed, they would see nothing but her outline slip through the night and then vanish… Fushimi Inari Taisha, the shrine of the fox goddess, had an ancient feeling about it. From the moment we stepped out into Fushimi-ku, in Japan’s Kyoto prefecture, we ere captivated by the old-world Japanese houses and the sloping streets that led us to the entry gate. The pillars ranged from faded, dusky oranges to vibrant reds, and the Kanji carved into their sides were organic, as if they had grown there out of the very mythos of the place. We saw patrons of the shrine diligently retouching the faded letters, but even their paint strokes moved like clockwork, as if they had been orchestrated by a great composer. The 12,000 steps to the top of the mountain were demanding, but this was more than a physical triumph over the Himalayas, it was a journey in every sense of the word. Passing under the red gates felt like falling through a tunnel of light and colour, back to the Kamakura Era when Japan rested in the balance between the rural, spiritual beliefs of their traditions, and the industrial boom that would open their world to the influence of foreign policy. The shrines still held the magic of uninterrupted fable, so it was easy to imagine the fox statues that stood sentinel all around us, leaping from their podiums and running in front of us up the steep staircase. My sister and I had talked about coming to Japan for as long as I can remember, and the whole country was thick with the bloom of Cherry-blossom, which only added to the mysticism. The forests all around us were ancient, and the sun filtering through the moss-covered stones added a depth to the iconic red columns. Before Fushimi Inari Taisha, I wasn’t a particularly spiritual person, so I didn’t expect to find such a spiritual connection with this place. But when we reached the top, we each lit a candle, in the Japanese tradition of placing a flame in the shrine as a symbol of hope for your loved ones, and a guiding light for your journey ahead. Although we weren’t lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the fox goddess, it was the story we were told of her, that guided me on my travels throughout the rest of Japan.