Adorned in little knitted hats and other clothing that speaks to the caring families they left behind, they stand out in the sea of more than 200,000 gravesites of Oku-no-in. You see them throughout the two main paths and on the seeming infinite number of less formal paths that branch off, most of these seeming to lead to nowhere.
Many say this cemetery is best visited at night. At any hour, look for the pilgrims in your midst. Their expressions, their posture, their bows as they enter the temple—you know this place is sacred.
Most of the tombs are covered with moss. Most are intact but weather worn. It is the kind of place that doesn’t need real fog to have the feel of it. You can find guide maps that serve up mind numbing details of history--- historic feuds between X and Y, the way their families buried the hatchet, and how enemies and friends alike are buried here. You too might find yourself quickly tossing your guide aside, in favor of soaking it in. Occasionally you break your trance to decipher an odd monument to a corporate brand, which is actually a company dedication to the souls of their employees.
At the end of each of the two main paths is the temple where the Shingun sect founder is resting in wait for the next Buddha. In contrast to the grey of the expansive cemetery, you enter a hall with walls of light from lanterns donated by the devout.
