Leaf-peeping: outtakes

Leaf-peeping season in Japan is, sadly, over. I thought this would be a good time to post some more pictures I took during my leaf-peeping outings that, for one reason or another, were not up to my (admittedly perfectionistic) standards, and so didn’t go into my original posts.

In addition to visiting Takao, Ishiyama-dera, and Arashiyama, I also visited the Hiyoshi Taisha shrine for leaf-peeping.

Hiyoshi Taisha is at the base of Mt. Hiei, north of Kyoto. Unfortunately, the day that I visited, it was raining and bitterly cold, and my photos ended up being all invariably blurry--which makes for interesting moody-type pictures, but not much clarity. Some of them still struck me, though, so here they are.

In spite of the rain and cold that day, the red maple leaf colors were still stunning. Some of the falling red leaves even ended up sticking to the top of my umbrella--I could see their leafy silhouettes from the underside of the umbrella--which I like to think is a lucky sign.

Below: Pictures from Hiyoshi Taisha, Ishiyama-dera, and the bamboo forest in Arashiyama
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I keep leaving out a "p" in leaf-peeping


This past weekend was a long weekend in Japan—some sort of hybrid Labor Thanksgiving Day—and it was also the height of leaf-peeping season. So what’s a girl to do? Leaf-peep, of course! I decided to avoid the crazy leaf-peeping crowds in Kyoto and headed, instead, to Ishiyama-dera temple in Otsu, east of Kyoto.

Ishiyama-dera was one of the most lovely temples I’ve seen so far. I know I keep saying this for every temple I see, but it’s true. Similar to my experience in Takao, I found myself saying, this time in English and in Chinese, “This is so beautiful, wow, this is so beautiful.”

The temple is partly set on a mountainside (the name of the temple means “Stony Mountain Temple”), with numerous trails, terraces, pagodas, and gazebos. There are enough trails there that, in spite of the crowds, I was able to find paths to explore by myself. The grounds are highly landscaped, the trees are tall and soar over you. Gorgeous.

I also arrived right around two o’clock in the afternoon, which I’m finding is prime time for picture-taking during this time of year in Japan. The red leaves really do seem to glow in the late afternoon sunlight. It’s like discovering a secret when you suddenly see a tree in front of you with those glowing leaves.

                               

Sometimes, I peep at leaves

Last weekend, I went to the village of Takao, in the mountains of northwest Kyoto. It’s the start of leaf-peeping season in the Kansai region, so I went with a friend to Takao to visit three temples that are famous for their autumn leaves.

Autumn leaf-peeping, especially of the gorgeous Japanese maple trees—known as momiji in Japanese--is a major past-time in Japan. Temples and parks become crowded at this time of year with hordes of spectators eager to see the vibrant reds and oranges of the momiji. There are even websites with autumn leaf status reports that you can view. My aunt, who is a frequent traveler to Japan, told me that even the local newspapers will feature regular autumn leaf updates. But being currently illiterate, I haven’t checked a newspaper yet to confirm this!

The temples we visited were: Kozan-ji, Jingo-ji, and Saimyo-ji. Kozan-ji is a series of temple buildings spread at multiple levels along a mountainside, with crumbling stone stairways and long stone paths connecting you between the buildings. The trees are so tall and dense there, that it felt more like I was in a forest than that I was visiting a temple in a forest.

The leaves have only just started changing at Kozan-ji, so there was mostly greenery, but what a glorious green they were.

Kozan-ji also happens to feature a set of scrolls that are known as the world’s first manga. (They show happy rabbits, frogs, and monkeys carousing with each other, if you must know. And not carousing in that way.)

The scrolls are housed in a very traditional-looking wooden building (that's my technical term for it) with lovely greenery surrounding it.

Jingo-ji is supposed to be the most famous of the three temples in Takao, but I have to say it was my least favorite in terms of scenery. Its buildings are spread out through a wide, open (i.e. not very tree-filled) area.

The trees around there—at least in the parts that we saw—weren’t dense enough or orange enough for good picture-taking. The climb to Jingo-ji, though, was an excellent way to work off lunch. There are a good few sets of long, steep stone steps that take you up a mountain before you reach the temple.

You do pass by a few udon restaurants on the way, though, which pretty much makes up for everything.

My favorite temple of the three was Saimyo-ji. The scenery there was so beautiful, that I found myself saying over and over again, “This is so beautiful, this is so beautiful” and feeling completely unsatisfied with that word. The greens and oranges and reds there were simply dazzling. And it wasn’t even the height of the fall foliage season yet!

Saimyo-ji also felt the most intimate out of the three temples. All of its temple buildings are close together in a fairly small, park-like area, with a friendly dirt path leading you through the temple grounds.

One of the highlights of the day was our lunch at a traditional restaurant by the river in Takao. We found the restaurant at random on our way to Saimyo-ji—which is really one of my favorite ways to figure out where to eat when traveling, through stumbling. We ate in one of the restaurant’s rustic wooden buildings overlooking the river (the restaurant has a handful of these small buildings by the river; each building is the size of a small room and has one wall of sliding doors that is left open to let in the air). We sat on the tatami floor, by large, open windows, with a view of the maple trees and the rushing water below.

Lunch was a multi-course feast of sweet river trout in a glazed sauce, a small salted fish that kept staring grudgingly at me, small appetizers (preserved veggies, tofu, the usual), and some seasonal small plates, including unagi over rice in a hollowed-out section of bamboo. The food, the river, the tatami, the maple trees—all gave me one of those, “OMFG, I really am in Japan” moments, where I want to laugh and kind of want to weep—in a very joyous way—at the same time.

After lunch, we took pictures around the paths near the restaurant—which was yet another one of my favorite parts of the day.

Below: Pictures from near the restaurant and also more pictures from Saimyo-ji