At the gates of Fushimi Inari shrine

We floated through tunnels of bright vermilion, passing by a blur of kanji characters, black font etched in columns on either side. Thirsty and exhausted from the trek up the mountain stairs, we encouraged each other to keep climbing. The steps were a steep incline and our legs trembled against the hard rock, but our senses were alert, piqued by the sights and sounds all around us. The path that was normally well defined would periodically detour as trailing steps into the lush forest; stones that were somehow forgotten by time…We were in Kyoto, a magical journey up to the head shrine of Fushimi Inari Taisha. 

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