We are not, as a rule, early risers on holiday. Kyoto is the exception. There is a window — maybe an hour — between when the temple gates open and when the first tour groups arrive, and that hour is when the city is most itself.
We walked a stone path through a grove while the gardeners were still raking the gravel into long, quiet lines. We had a small temple almost entirely to ourselves, and my son, who is usually in motion, simply stood still and looked. I have learned that the best parts of a trip are rarely the ones you can book.
By nine the crowds had found us, and we did not mind. We had already had the morning. We went and found breakfast, and let the rest of the day stay loose.