The air has changed in a way that cannot be ignored. Just this week the days climbed into the upper 90s °F (36–37 °C). Now they barely reach the mid-70s °F (23–24 °C). The sky hangs low with clouds, a light drizzle lingers, and the shift feels striking.
Meteorologists point to changes in the polar jet stream, where disruptions higher in the atmosphere allow cold Arctic air to push unusually far south. This can bring sudden, sharp relief even in late summer. These dynamics are what explain such unexpected temperature drops. Read more here!
In Japan’s seasonal calendar this moment is called 天地始粛 (Tenchi hajimete samushi), “heaven and earth grow cool.” The phrase tenchi (天地), literally heaven and earth, carries deeper resonance in classical cosmology, symbolizing the balance between the sky and soil, or spirit and substance. The cool isn’t just weather; it suggests a realignment of all things. The Kojiki specifically references Tenchi throughout its myths.
I’m not used to this kind of August chill. It feels nearly foreign after months of oppressive heat, yet welcome in a way that’s hard to describe. Cicadas have quieted. Crickets now keep the evening with their steady rhythm. I open car windows open not out of desperation, but because the air itself is gentle.
This isn't relief, but alignment. The air above, the ground below, and the life humming between have found the same pace. That is how tenchi arrives: not as a whisper, but as a breath of clarity that shifts everything at once.