On the Morning of Obon / Autumn Arrives with the Sound of Insects (2026.08.13)

This morning, I am simmering adzuki beans.

In the pot, the beans are dancing with a gentle bubbling sound.
Today marks the beginning of Obon.
While preparing to welcome my ancestors, I spent the still-dim morning hours.

Then, I suddenly noticed something.

Until a little while ago, morning meant the sound of cicadas.
A powerful sound that seemed to push summer to its fullest extent.

However, this morning, that sound has grown a little distant,
and in its place, I can hear the voices of small insects from the grass.

Are they bell crickets?
Or perhaps crickets?

It is still August.
When noon comes, I am sure it will be hot again today.

Even so, the seasons are moving little by little.

Yesterday, a typhoon passed through.
I was worried about the heavy rain and wind, but fortunately, we were able to end the day peacefully.

And the morning after the typhoon left,
it feels as if the air has been refreshed.

From cicadas to insects.

From summer to autumn.

The turning point of the seasons does not arrive like drawing a line on a calendar.

One morning, the wind changes slightly.
The color of the sky seems a little higher.
The sounds you hear change.

And people,

"Ah, autumn is approaching,"

they realize.

This morning, that day was the start of Obon.

The scent of simmering adzuki beans.
The steam rising from the pot.
The sound of insects from outside.

Perhaps people in the past also welcomed their ancestors while feeling the seasons in this way.

In modern life,
we have come to know the seasons more by dates.

It is August, so it is summer.
It is September, so it is autumn.

But I think the true seasons are more ambiguous and much richer.

Listening with your ears,
feeling with your skin,
noticing with your sense of smell.

Thinking about it that way,
perhaps the seasons are not something you "know,"
but something you "feel."

While simmering the adzuki beans,
I am listening to the sound of insects.

It is a morning with nothing special.

But on a morning like this,
I feel that time is flowing slowly.

Today marks the beginning of Obon.

While welcoming those who return,
I think I will also quietly listen
to the summer that is departing.

Autumn arrives with the sound of insects.

Once again this year, the season is quietly beginning to move into the next moment.