the sound of the wind

According to the traditional Japanese calendar, we have entered the season of Autumn. 

It is not autumn proper, of course--since it is still hotter than Hades!

But known in Japanese as the beginning of autumn (立秋), this is a time evocative of the season to come. 

The history of the traditional Japanese calendar stretches very far back into Japanese history- so far back, indeed, that we find ourselves in ancient China. And as was true of many facets of the ancient Chinese civilization--from its writing system to ceramics and medicine-- the Chinese calendar was remarkably advanced and far superior to anything held by its neighbors of the time. The solar-lunar calendar is based on 24 solar points, called sekki (節気)-- with each sekki representing 15 degrees apart on the 360 degree solar elliptic. Although modern Japanese use the Gregorian calendar, the ancient sekki with their lyrical names are still held in great regard as being expressive of seasonal phenomena.

But, it should be said that these were expressive of the seasonal phenomena happening around the Yellow River Basin area in China, and so didn’t necessarily hold true for other places where the calendar was in use-- for example, in Japan, Korea, Vietnam and southern China. When compared to northern China, Japan has a much more temperate climate, and therefore many wonderful gaps can be felt between the 24 sekki and what is in fact happening at a given time in Japan. And this gap is even more dramatic in a tropical place like Vietnam which, while never sees frost much less snow, once celebrated festivals occurring during the “Time of Lesser Snow.”

I've always felt there to be something delightful about tropical Vietnam having a calendar that had a time of greater and lesser snow.   

In my life, I have only lived in five places longer than a few years--two cities in Japan and three cities in California. And none of these places mapped well onto the Japanese calendar. But that is maybe what makes it so interesting, even in today's world. Those gaps that make you stop and look and listen; watch and wait.

2.

According to my Japanese almanacs, of the four seasons, it is autumn alone which is heard before it is seen.

This can happen after a windless, blisteringly hot Japanese summer, when autumn arrives--around August 7th.

Ever so slight, it makes itself known by the sound of the stirring of the leaves in the trees–for autumn arrives carried by the wind.

秋来ぬと目にはさやかに見えぬども風の音にぞおどろかれぬる　　　

–藤原敏行朝臣

Nothing meets the eye 
to demonstrate beyond a doubt
that autumn has come–
yet suddenly we are struck
just by the sound of the wind 
— Fujiwara Toshiyuki no Ason

 

Usually this occurs when it is unbearably hot and humid out, and friends in Japan would greet me in emails with expressions of, "Although the calendar says it's autumn, wow, it is still hot!" I think the reminder that autumn is coming--carried on the wind (Can you hear the cool breeze?) cheers people up. The only possible comparison I can come up with closer to home is the Christian liturgical season of Advent--a time of waiting in expectation and hope (Sad that this season has been completely rolled over by a Christmas frenzy beginning in November). 

3.

This year by coincidence it was breezy on August 7, there was a delightfully cool breeze in Pasadena. Yesterday and today too. You can sense autumn in the air. We have summer wind chimes and hearing their music was just unbelievably perfect (this has never happened before!) 

Liza Dalby in her memoir through the Japanese seasons insists that if she looks really hard, she can indeed find signs of coming autumn at this time of year. She lives in the Bay Area, and says every year around this time she sees a kind of lily, called resurrection lilies or belladonna lilies, in her garden. She also sees something like a summer daffodil, related to higanbana--one of the autumnal flower par excellence {These flowers often bloom around the autumn equinox, referred to as higan--higan also refers to the "other shore" in Buddhism}.

Around Pasadena, I can't find anything particularly distinctive blooming now, other than the crêpe myrtle and the red dragonflies, which love our unheated pool and playfully fly around it all day long--even dipping down into the water!

This year, because of the breeze, I do feel that autumn is just around the corner....! (Puppy of my life got a late summer haircut! Much to his dismay!)

Comments

[Brooks Riley]

Autumn has a paradoxical effect on me. Although nature's signs suggest a beautiful decay ahead, I am filled with excitement and anticipation of the future.