On August 7, 2026, one of the traditional twenty-four solar terms in China, called 立秋 (Lìqiū), which means "the beginning of autumn," occurred. This signifies that summer is slowly coming to an end and autumn is beginning to arrive. It was remarkable that on August 7th, Beijing suddenly cooled down after a rain shower. The day before, the city had been experiencing high temperatures, but after the rainfall, the air cleared up, and the evening was much more pleasant. It was as if autumn had truly arrived according to the ancient calendar. In moments like these, one can easily understand why Chinese people speak of the wisdom of their ancestors.
Chinese people, like Europeans, divide the year into four seasons: spring, summer, autumn, and winter. However, the traditional Chinese calendar goes even further. Each season is divided into six smaller parts, or six solar terms. This results in twenty-four solar terms, which helped people observe changes in weather, soil, plants, and daily life.
春雨惊春清谷天，夏满芒夏暑相连，秋处露秋寒霜降，冬雪雪冬小大寒。
Spring brings rain, awakening insects, the spring equinox, clarity, and grain rains; summer continues with fullness, ears of grain, the summer solstice, and heat; autumn arrives with the end of the heat, dew, the autumnal equinox, coolness, and frost; winter brings snow, the winter solstice, and small and large frosts.
These terms are not just a poetic calendar. In the past, they functioned as an agricultural plan. They told people when to sow, when to plow, when to expect rain, and when to harvest. For example, the spring term 谷雨 (Gǔyǔ), which falls around April 20th, literally combines grain and rain. It signifies a period when the weather becomes more humid, with increased rainfall, and farmers should take advantage of this opportune time to work in the fields.
Another well-known term is 冬至 (Dōngzhì), the winter solstice. It is the peak of winter and the day with the shortest daylight hours in the Northern Hemisphere. From this point on, light begins to return, and spring slowly approaches. In northern China, dumplings called 饺子 (jiǎozi) are eaten on this day. Meat and vegetables are wrapped in dough and cooked in water. The old people say that those who eat 饺子 (jiǎozi) on the winter solstice will not be cold in the winter and their ears will not freeze. It may be a whimsical notion, but it is customs like these that make the calendar come alive.
The twenty-four solar terms are therefore not just a system for farmers. They have gradually become intertwined with folk customs, food, family rituals, and daily life. They give ordinary days a subtle order and add a sense of ceremony. Thanks to them, one does not feel that time is simply passing away, but that it has a rhythm, a mood, and a direction.
``````htmlThe recent 立秋 (Lìqiū) beautifully illustrates the restraint and wisdom of Chinese thinking. Everything around us is still growing, summer is still blazing, and one autumn shower cannot extinguish its flame. The world is still in the most vibrant chapter of the year. However, Lìqiū does not arrive with a loud proclamation. Rather, it quietly suggests that beauty and warmth will eventually begin to wane, and that all things will soon begin to draw inward.
It doesn't bluntly tell us that beautiful summer days have suddenly ended. Rather, it whispers that a fresh and poetic autumn is being born. And because summer hasn't completely disappeared yet, this space between the two seasons teaches us to appreciate the remaining light, warmth, and time even more.
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