Kyoto, Saturday Morning

The noise of the city sounds dimly at Nanzenji: footsteps on a gravel path, an aqueduct carrying water, leaf-blowing machines in the forest, the clang of a gong, a suitcase on wheels, Japanese praying soundlessly in front of the main hall, sunlight slanting through wooden beams. I find my bike and cycle back along the riverside path, in the general direction of Gingakuji. The early morning cool slowly burns away.