Yesterday we traveled a bit south on the lakeside road to see the third-evening events of the four-day Sanno Matsuri (festival) at Hiyoshi Taisha Shrine on the lower slope of Mt. Hiei. Although the Shrine is renowned for its ancient maple trees and their leaves in autumn, the blooming cherry trees that now line its streets offer a taste of what it must be like to ascend into heaven while still alive. The shrine precincts themselves rank among the most beautiful in all of Japan; but under cherry blossoms at their peak, beneath a rising moon, words fade to sounds of awe.
Today, shrine members carry the Omikoshi (portable shrines) from other nearby Lake-coast shrines by boat to Hiyoshi Taisha to have them all recharged with kami-power, and last night was the turn for the local Omikoshi to "be born," an event in which hundreds of local young men came running and screaming in flame-bearing packs up the dark road to the ancient open-fronted building that housed the four old Omikoshi.
Once the gangs of guys had all leaped up into the building in a mad rush, some linked arms to close off the space while the others proceeded to rock the Omikoshi back and forth, the Omikoshi legs pounding on the old wide planks of the building, turning it into a very large wooden drum whose beat threaded through various syncopations in a booming resonance that, coupled with the wild energy output, created a trance-like state in the young men and the thousands of observers who came drifting up the cherry-blossom-arched lanes to witness the event as it went on into the night, the firelight reflecting from the golden Omikoshi roofs and tapestries, that sparkled as they rocked heavily back and forth in the rhythm of the vast heartbeat we all share.
We left after a few hours, the pounding fading back into the night up the mountain as we found our way down through the dark along narrow, stone-walled alleys lit only by cherry blossoms filtering moonlight.
