The sky opens. It rains for the first time since my arrival in Japan. Maybe the land of the rising sun is sad on my departure, or crying with laughter. Who knows.
I spent the last two days exploring the Naritasan Shinshoji Temple and its garden surrounds. The temple was founded in 938, with the oldest building dating back to the early 18th century. 1701 to be precise. And all the timber work is fitted by furniture quality joinery. No screws, nails or bolts here.
Around 1968 they moved one of these to build a larger temple. They literally picked up the whole temple, built a number of railway tracks underneath it, moved it a couple of hundred metres, and put it back down.
The gardens on the other hand fell like they have been there forever. I suppose even for trees a thousand years is a long time.
But once again most people choose the easy path and miss out on the rewards the harder choice can bring. But then most people that come here, especially on weekends, only come here as a diversion, and to look at pretty things.
Do they know of the history? Do they care about the temples and their meaning? While they pose for another selfie, I am sure they have not gained any merit by coming here. Maybe a few extra followers, but no merit.
