Evening cicadas sing

Nature

The higurashi (Tanna japonensis) sings most intensely at dawn and dusk, its descending notes echoing through mountain valleys and temple groves. Dragonflies patrol the margins of rice paddies in greater numbers, their flight paths crisscrossing like calligraphy. Morning glory vines reach their peak bloom, unfurling new flowers each dawn that close by midday.

Table

Nashi to nama-hamu no sarada. Chilled salad of thinly sliced Japanese pear with prosciutto, dressed lightly in olive oil — the fruit's crystalline sweetness perfectly matched to the first cool evenings.

Tsurumurasaki no goma-ae. Malabar spinach dressed in sesame paste, its slight mucilaginous texture providing cooling relief against lingering humidity.

Shishitō no yakibitashi. Blistered shishito peppers steeped in chilled dashi and soy, capturing the interplay of summer's fire and autumn's approach.

Budō no shiratama. Chilled mochi dumplings served with fresh grapes and kuromitsu syrup, celebrating the grape harvest's first offerings.

Rite

Obon observances reach their height during this micro-season, as families welcome ancestral spirits home with cucumber horses and eggplant oxen placed on household altars. The mukaebi (welcome fire) lit at dusk guides spirits back, while the higurashi's twilight song seems to bridge the worlds of the living and the departed. Many regions hold bon odori dances, their circular movements traced under paper lanterns.