There’s a cedar grove in the south of the island. Inside the grove is a shrine that’s been there for two thousand and three hundred years. The sweet smell of cedar filled the darkened woods. The ocean bright sun couldn’t break through the tree cover.

I saw over ten shrines within the complex— each filled with their own god. The best shrine was a giant, gnarled tree— something you could understand how people came to worship it. Anything that makes you feel small, but filled with wonder is worth paying singular attention to.