In the forest, the great stone turtle crouches, straining against the pillar that has been plunged through his back. Flat eyes glare past the stone lanterns, making monks and pilgrims stop dead in their tracks.
That blank gaze follows you, makes sure you are looking away when the turtle actually moves. Inch by inch, the pillar gives way, as the monster strains against the spells carved into the rock.
A shift of a hand-span takes a hundred years, but the turtle is patient.
Sometimes, unwary humans step too close. Sometimes, they are alone. The turtle is always hungry, but it does not starve. Birds know better than to perch on its great granite head.
We think their chirps are beautiful songs, as we step over fallen branches, walk around the pillars, pause for a photograph. We do not realise that they are warnings.
...Yup, that's me at Gesso-ji temple in Matsue, coochie-cooing the great monster turtle. The stone was warm to the touch...
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