The Kyomizu-dera is my favorite temple. It is a Buddhist temple situated in Kyoto. Some may weep before the Ginkakuji, some others in front of the Kinkakuji but I definitely prefer the Kyomizu-dera.
I visited the Kyomizu-dera in all seasons. Of all the temples, it is the one that I have seen tame all weather.
I know the Kyomizu-dera under the snow and the torches of the New Year’s night. I have accompanied my host family on their annual procession. Proudly wearing my colorful kimono, with a nice sprig of flowers in my neatly arranged hair, I walked very slowly. My “geta”, the wooden shoes that accompany the traditional garb, did not allow me to do otherwise.
The Kyomizu-dera, I also know it under the cherry blossoms. I remember its austere silhouette contrasting the pink petals in the hair of my little 18-month Héloïse. It was a rebirth for me and for my home-stay family: I came home with a little blonde doll with pink cheeks. It was obvious to me that I should follow tradition and introduce my little girl to its Eminence the temple itself. 
The Kyomizu-dera, I know it in the humid atmosphere of the long summer days, when you walk barefoot on its wooden planks and you can hear the sound of the crickets in the bushes. The middle of the summer in Japan has unexpected heat waves and a visit to the temple is always welcome, if only for the icy water that we ceremoniously sprinkle on ourselves before entering the holy temple.
I also know the Kyomizu-dera in full “koyo” when autumn bursts forth its multitude of reds and drops from the trees in an absolutely masterful symphony of colors. It is my favorite season, one of Nature’s silent concerts. Each color associates itself with a musical tone in my head as I drink it in, the score hesitating between Beethoven and Bartok.
The path taking you to its shrine is very dramatic.
First, you must climb the hill. You walk through the colourful streets of the Higashiyama district. These are shopping streets lined with shop windows stocked for tourists. The décor is so charming, so close to the atmosphere that we imagine of the old Kyoto that you are immediately caught by the festive atmosphere.
When you arrive at the end of the road you find the entrance of the temple, turning to the left as you approach the platform.
The Kyomizu-dera is perched on a hillside 15 meters above its surroundings with its platform supported by hundreds of pillars. It is a structure that contemplates the void.
The temple is dramatic. It talks to me, it stares at me, it defies me.
It regales me with stories of pilgrims that have thrown themselves into the void in acts of pure desperation.
It talks to me of excess, of Italian opera and of the extreme. Maybe it is my Latin roots but the Kyomizu-dera is a temple that I understand and I respect.
The drawings in the gravel of the Zen temples do not rock my boat. At the risk of disappointing some, I have to admit that they are too conceptual for me.
The Kyomizu-dera has character. It stands proudly like its European cathedral cousins, demanding its visitors to demonstrate a faith without limits.
Now that the cherry blossoms are in full bloom again in Kyoto, I dream of the Kyomizudera temple and the next time that I will be able to pay it my respects.
O temple, continue to delight your ancestral pilgrims with your ever changing colors.