Autumn Temples of Kyoto

I arrived at the temple gate before sunrise, tripod in hand, hoping to beat the tour buses — for once, it worked.

A monk sweeping the courtyard nodded good morning without breaking his rhythm, the sound of the broom the only thing louder than my breathing in the cold air.

By ten o'clock the bridge over the ravine was shoulder to shoulder, but I'd already gotten my quiet hour among the fire-coloured leaves.