Oh, deer! A tour through the old, old capital of Nara

This is the sixth of my posts about my six-day trip in Japan.

There were signs everywhere warning people about the atrocities the deer might commit. A little girl and granny were depicted being rammed, kicked, bitten and knocked over by the honored ungulates of Nara.

But after a moment of initial weariness, Kat and I realized these deer were as tame as your neighborhood Labrador. There I stood, surrounded by a small herd, being prodded left, right and center for the deer cookies I proffered. Unwilling to wait for me to dole out the tasty treats, one deer took matters into his own, uh, hooves, and nosedived into my bag. When I spun around, the packet of tissue was already firmly between his teeth, and I wasn't going after it. Chalk it up to not feeding fast enough.

You thought goats would eat anything, but I think it's better left to the deer of Japan's ancient capital city of Nara. In addition to their regular feed, grass, deer cookies and the Kleenex from my purse, I witnessed the deer happily munching on brochures, maps, bread, fruit and other picnic vittles they managed to solicit from visitors. These deer pretty much have the run of the place.

While Nara is a wealth of Japanese culture and history, the deer were really the highlight of this little city. We stopped between each temple to hand out more cookies, goad each other into goofy poses with the animals and marvel at the fawns. But of course, we also gaped at the impressive pagodas, temples, bells and other historic structures.

Particularly arresting was the colossal Daibutsu-den Hall in the Tokaiji Temple complex. By this time, we'd discovered temples don't stand alone in Japan, but are almost always part of a larger complex comprised of many temples, shrines and halls. Daibutsu-den rose like a massive water buffalo in a small, mossy pond. Rebuilt at just two-thirds of its original size after fire claimed it, it's still the largest wooden structure in the world. It's proportions suggest it was built for a family of giants, but I suppose the Great Buddha inside it is more than a giant to the devout -- he is a god.

We wandered up a lane lined with hundreds of stone lanterns to the tangerine Kasuga Taisha temple complex. The thousand bronze lanterns and about 2,000 stone lanterns are lit twice a year, and I imagine it's a breathtaking and moving site to behold.

There are some who will tell you, if you've seen one temple, you've seen 'em all. This is simply not so. While temple burnout is real and sometimes inevitable, each temple is unique and riveting in its own way. While some are massive and grand, others are painstaking in their diminutive detail. The intricate wood, bronze and gold work are always cause for pause and reflection of the beauty that can come from religion, instead of the pain people so often attribute to faith.

So, we left Nara, happily exhausted, but ready for yet another dose of culture in Kyoto.

Check out my photo album, "Oh, deer!" on my facebook page.