I really do not know what to make
of this place. It is so unutterably peaceful after the bustle
of the main touristy bits of Nikko; water crashing over rocks, and
the leaves of the trees rustling in the breeze. All along the
path winding its way along the ravine are thousands of these quaint
little Buddha statues covered in moss seeming to indicate a certain
age if not permanence, yet rather bizarrely clad in the equivalent
of schoolboy woollies... They say you
cannot count the number of statues and one of their number (actually
all of them as far as I can make out) smiles benignly, but
patronisingly as if to reprimand those who attempt to do so.
That's the trouble with Buddhism; you just
never can tell if it is all sublime and ethereal or if they are just
taking the piss. |
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