Tofukuji is where Kyoto goes to look down on autumn instead of up at it. The peak runs mid to late November. Inside the grounds a ravine called Sengyokukan cuts through the temple, and the covered Tsutenkyo bridge crosses it, so you stand above the canopy and see the upper surface of the leaves — colour lit from your side, not filtered through from behind. It is the same species you have seen all over the city, and a different picture entirely.

The temple was founded by the regent Kujo Michiie; work began in 1236 and the full complex took nineteen years to finish. It is counted among the five great Zen temples of Kyoto, and it wears the rank plainly. The Muromachi-period sanmon gate is a national treasure. The bathhouse and the latrine survive as well, which sounds like a joke and is not: together they show how the monks actually lived, day by day.

Around the abbot's quarters lie dry landscape gardens, white sand and set stones, and in November the white sits against the red in the ravine like paper under ink.

During the peak weeks the bridge is made one-way, and stopping on it is discouraged. You get one slow crossing. Use it well. Look down once at the whole valley, fix it in your mind, and let the current of people carry you off the far end.