There are many flavors of Buddhism, but Zen is the one Japan can claim as its own. It will not surprise my readers to know that it's the spiritual philosophy I've always found most appealing—abandoning, as it does, any attempt to address the afterlife, good vs. evil, the origin of mankind or even the sacred and the profane. Zen is simply an axiom: if you can truly accept the inevitability of your own death, the transient nature of all things and the meaninglessness of existence, only then will you be able to truly experience each moment and appreciate the beauty that this world has to offer. I have no difficulty believing this to be true.

To those Buddhists devoted to achieving Enlightenment along this path, a good way to begin would be with a place like the Engaku monastery, a sprawling compound filled with serene temples, barracks, worship halls and the imposing San-Mon gate that looms over all those set foot onto its grounds. The Zen style of Buddhism is known for its austere sensibilities, but not because it's an austere religion. Standing in a place like Engaku makes it all too clear that Zen's renowned minimalism is ultimately a means of celebrating the beauty of everything else.

I took these pictures because I can't convey in writing the trancendent splendor of this place. Every tree, every pond, every rock and stone at Engaku-Ji has been guided to the spot most conducive to being at peace with the world. A digital camera can only do so much, but I hope I've managed to capture some small hint of this.