Goodbye, summer of fierce light and sudden storms. You gave us heavy skies split by typhoons, nights thick with heat, mornings of cicadas crying without rest. I will remember the weight of your air, the taste of mangoes, the streets shimmering in late-afternoon sun. You were stubborn, endless, almost unbearable, yet full of life.
Now you loosen your grip. The air begins to breathe again. Shadows lengthen, not with chill but with gentleness. Rain falls softer, the evenings hint at comfort. Autumn here does not arrive with fire-colored leaves but with clarity—mountains outlined sharp against a washed-blue sky, breezes that lift the sweat from the skin, nights where rest feels possible.
I welcome you, autumn, with your quieter rhythm. Your promise is not of harvest, but of balance. Days still warm, but no longer smothering. Nights cooler, inviting thought and calm. The streets will glow with lanterns, the air rich with mooncakes, tea steam rising like a slow hymn.
Summer, I do not forget you. But each season has its beauty, and yours has taught me to endure brightness until it becomes memory. Autumn, I turn to you with hope, trusting your slower pace, your softer voice. May you carry us forward with grace, until another summer returns again.
Images : Sue
Text : Scribblegeist (Ghost of the runaway pencil)
