The fox moved effortlessly out of the forest, past the trees and through the red pillars. She paused to read the kanji, freshly painted in a thick black lacquer, wishes of love and health and good fortune. Blinking twice, she carried the words with her as she pattered up the steps, the cold stone feeling like home beneath the pads of her feet. It was a journey she made often, in the quiet hours when no one was around to see. As she reached the shrine at the top of the mountain, all of the candles were suddenly alight. And in the shadows, she took on her true form, letting her long auburn hair fall upon her back. With human hands, she drank from the sake that had been left as an offering by the people in the village below, and picked up the silver coins from the ground at her feet. Before leaving the shrine, she took a single incense stick and placed it in the sand, gently blowing the swirling smoke to make sure it carried good magic to the surrounding woods. With a twitch of her ears and furry tail, she descended the steps once again. And if a lucky onlooker were to catch a glimpse of her as she passed, they would see nothing but her outline slip through the night and then vanish…
Fushimi inari taisha, the shrine of the fox goddess, had the feeling of a myth about it. The 12,000 steps to the top were what made the journey so unforgettable, passing under the red gates felt like falling through a tunnel of light and colour and the past all wrapped up in one. We watched the craftsmen carefully paint each pillar by hand, and when we reached the top, we lit candles in the temple in the hopes that they would grant our dreams and burn brightly in the darkness.
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