Solar term calendar

Twenty-four turns. Mr. Chaju wrote a short note for each. The dates are the usual modern approximations; the sky does not use our clock.

1. 01Start of SpringThe calendar still says winter, but the east wind has changed its mind. Mr. Chaju opens a tin of jasmine and lets the room smell faintly green.Read the note
2. 02Rain WaterRain starts to reach the roots. The kettle stays on, and the tea house smells of wet stone and roasted barley.Read the note
3. 03Awakening of InsectsThunder is only a rumor, but the insects believe it. We set out a lighter cup, something floral, and open the windows a finger's width.Read the note
4. 04Spring EquinoxDay and night balance on the same scale. Mr. Chaju drinks the same tea twice, once in the sun and once after it leaves.Read the note
5. 05Clear and BrightThe air is washed. People visit family graves, willows turn yellow-green, and the tea house keeps a quiet pot for anyone who comes in from the road.Read the note
6. 06Grain RainThe last spring rain fattens the grain. Leaves are tender now; we brew them a little cooler and a little shorter.Read the note
7. 07Start of SummerSummer crosses the threshold with broad daylight. The robe feels heavier, and the cups get smaller.Read the note
8. 08Grain BudsThe ears of grain are full but not yet heavy. We are in the same mood: enough, not too much, a second infusion if you want it.Read the note
9. 09Grain in EarThese are the busy planting days. Mr. Chaju keeps a cool infusion on the counter for people who only have time to stand.Read the note
10. 10Summer SolsticeThe longest day. Light stays in the room after the shop should have closed. We drink something clean and slightly bitter.Read the note
11. 11Minor HeatHeat arrives in earnest, though the evenings still negotiate. Chrysanthemum sits in a bowl, waiting for hot water.Read the note
12. 12Major HeatThe peak of summer. The cat naps where the floor is stone. Tea is poured over ice only if you ask; the kettle still has a job.Read the note
13. 13Start of AutumnAutumn is announced before it is felt. A leaf sticks to the step. We put osmanthus on the list and wait for it to mean it.Read the note
14. 14End of HeatThe heat begins to pack. Nights grow a margin. Mr. Chaju moves the darker teas back toward the front of the shelf.Read the note
15. 15White DewMornings silver over. The first dew is a fine ink line on the grass. Tea tastes cleaner in this kind of air.Read the note
16. 16Autumn EquinoxBalance again, this time leaning toward dark. We split a pot: half for the afternoon, half for when the lamp is lit.Read the note
17. 17Cold DewDew turns cold enough to matter. Leaves dry at the edges. The tea house sweeps a little earlier and lets the water boil a little longer.Read the note
18. 18Frost DescentFrost writes its name on the lawn. Mr. Chaju sets out chenpi and red dates, the smell of a room that has decided to be warm.Read the note
19. 19Start of WinterWinter is a change of clothes. The blue robe earns its keep. Ginger and black tea are for the evening, when the street is already dark.Read the note
20. 20Minor SnowSnow that does not stick. It salts the tiles and leaves. The kettle sounds louder in a quiet shop.Read the note
21. 21Major SnowSnow that means it. Footsteps stop at the threshold and start again as water. We keep the pot full.Read the note
22. 22Winter SolsticeThe longest night, and after it the light starts coming back, slowly enough that only a calendar would boast. We stay up with a small cup.Read the note
23. 23Minor ColdCold settles into the corners. The cat chooses the chair nearest the kettle. Tea is dark, and the second steep is often the better one.Read the note
24. 24Major ColdThe coldest term, and the last. Everything after this is already walking toward spring. We finish the jar of chenpi and do not rush the next one.Read the note