People drive out to Itoshima to see one tree. The great maple of Raizan Sennyoji Daihioin usually turns between the first and middle of November, give or take what the year's weather decides. It is about four hundred years old, a natural monument of Fukuoka Prefecture, planted — the story goes — to mark the building of the hall by Kuroda Tsugutaka in the middle of the eighteenth century.

The shape is the point. At about a metre and a half above the ground the trunk divides into three, and the branches open from there like a fan, wide and low, until one tree behaves like a roof. Stand under it and there is nothing else in the frame. Most autumn places work by accumulation, a thousand trees making one colour together. This one works by concentration.

Around it, some two hundred smaller maples fill the grounds, and they keep a different calendar — colour through the whole of November. So the temple really holds two seasons: a short, intense one under the great tree, and a longer, quieter one everywhere else. Which one you time your visit to is a real decision.

The hall is open from nine until half past four, every day. Go early if you can; November brings the shichi-go-san families, and the courtyard fills by mid-morning. Then stand under the tree, look up, and take your time. You came all this way for one maple. Let it be the whole visit.