The Seasonal Rhythms of Ancient China

In the intricate tapestry of Chinese temporal consciousness, the twenty-four solar terms (节气) formed an elaborate calendar system that guided agricultural activities and cultural practices for millennia. Among these, Liqiu (立秋), literally meaning “the beginning of autumn,” held particular significance as the thirteenth solar term, typically falling between late June and early July in the lunar calendar.

The Song Dynasty (960-1279 CE) witnessed an extraordinary flourishing of cultural practices surrounding Liqiu, blending natural observation with sophisticated urban customs. As recorded in the Dongjing Meng Hua Lu (《东京梦华录》), a detailed account of Northern Song capital Kaifeng’s daily life, the arrival of autumn transformed city streets into vibrant displays of seasonal celebration.

The Poetry of Autumn’s First Day

Song urbanites marked Liqiu with two distinctive customs: drinking “autumn water” (秋水) and wearing catalpa leaves (楸叶). Contrary to its name, autumn water wasn’t plain water but a sweet red bean soup made from adzuki beans (赤小豆) boiled with sugar. This nutritious beverage, rich in protein and iron, represented both practical nourishment for the seasonal transition and symbolic sweetness to ease autumn’s coming austerity.

The catalpa tree (Catalpa ovata), with its towering stature, heart-shaped leaves, and early leaf-fall pattern, became autumn’s herald. As recorded in Dongjing Meng Hua Lu: “On Liqiu, streets filled with vendors selling catalpa leaves; women and children would cut them into decorative patterns to wear.” Southern Song’s Wulin Jiushi (《武林旧事》) similarly notes Hangzhou residents wearing catalpa leaves while drinking red bean soup.

For those without access to catalpa trees, phoenix tree (Firmiana simplex) leaves served as substitutes, as these also shed early. The Mengliang Lu (《梦粱录》) describes an intriguing court ritual: astronomers would transplant a phoenix tree into the palace courtyard. At the precise Liqiu moment, the court astronomer would announce “Autumn has come!” whereupon one or two leaves would dramatically fall – whether through natural coincidence or human intervention remains delightfully ambiguous.

Between Science and Mysticism: Ancient Meteorological Practices

The Song period witnessed fascinating intersections between empirical observation and cosmological beliefs. One controversial practice was “reed-ash pitch-pipe divination” (葭灰占律), allegedly used since pre-Qin times to determine solar terms. This involved:

1. Crafting twelve copper pipes of varying lengths corresponding to major solar terms
2. Filling them with ash from burned reed membranes
3. Arranging them vertically in a sealed chamber
4. Observing which pipe’s ash would spontaneously eject at each term’s arrival

While some modern scholars speculate this might have involved subtle atmospheric pressure changes, Ming and Qing critics exposed it as an elaborate ruse – astronomers secretly triggered chemical reactions in specific pipes to preserve their professional prestige. The Kangxi Emperor ultimately abolished this two-millennia-old tradition in the early 1700s.

The Double Seventh Festival: When Liqiu Meets Qixi

The Qixi Festival (七夕), China’s traditional celebration of love occurring on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, often neighbored Liqiu. Northern Song poet Qin Guan (秦观) captured this temporal conjunction in his poem “Fisherman’s Pride: Qixi and Liqiu,” composed in 1085 when both occasions fell on July 31st.

Qixi’s evolution reveals fascinating cultural layers. While modern interpretations emphasize romantic love through the Cowherd-Weaver Girl legend, Song customs focused more on skill acquisition. As recorded in Suishiguangji (《岁时广记》):

“On Qixi night, capital boys placed writing implements before the Cowherd’s tablet, inscribing: ‘[Name] seeks wisdom.’ Girls placed sewing boxes before the Weaver Girl’s tablet, writing: ‘[Name] seeks skill.'”

This gender-divided ritual – boys praying for intelligence, girls for dexterity – reflected Confucian ideals of cultivated masculinity and domestic femininity. Offerings were arranged on fragrant chinaberry (Melia azedarach) leaves, valued for their insect-repelling properties in humid summer nights.

The Enigmatic Mohole: Buddhist Influences on Qixi

The most extravagant Qixi item was the mohole (磨喝乐), exquisite doll figurines ranging from affordable clay versions to imperial masterpieces. As Dongjing Menghua Lu describes:

“Moholes were sold everywhere before Qixi… Some pairs cost several thousand coins, decorated with gold, pearls, and ivory.”

The term “mohole” derived from Sanskrit, possibly referring to Rāhula, Buddha’s son. Historian Deng Zhicheng noted this connection, suggesting the dolls’ popularity reflected Song Buddhism’s profound cultural permeation. Artisans like Yuan Yuchang of Suzhou created remarkably lifelike moholes with movable parts, commanding prices equivalent to thousands in modern currency.

Simpler wax versions called “water floats” (水上浮) depicted lovers, waterfowl, and lotuses – precursors to modern bath toys. Their Qixi presence, while seemingly incongruous with romantic themes, possibly symbolized spiritual purity in Buddhist context.

The Ghost Festival: A Tridimensional Celebration

Following Qixi, the seventh lunar month’s fifteenth day brought Zhongyuan Festival (中元节), a remarkable fusion of indigenous and Buddhist traditions. Originally a Confucian harvest memorial (小秋), it acquired Daoist dimensions as the Middle Prime (中元) festival before incorporating Buddhist Ullambana (盂兰盆) rites.

The story of Maudgalyāyana (目犍连) rescuing his mother from hell through compassionate offerings became central to Chinese Zhongyuan observances. As Suishiguangji details, Song families:

1. Created ancestral altars with chinaberry leaves and fresh harvests
2. Decorated with sesame stalks (symbolizing upward progress)
3. Conducted vegetarian offerings (reflecting Buddhist influence)
4. Burned paper “Ullambana basins” containing rice and Maudgalyāyana images

The Song government institutionalized three-day holidays for Zhongyuan, initially featuring lantern displays akin to Yuanxiao until Emperor Taizong discontinued them in 990 CE, preferring solemnity befitting the “ghost festival.”

Moon Festival Mysteries: The Absent Mooncake

Contrary to popular belief, mid-autumn festival (中秋节) celebrations in Song China conspicuously lacked mooncakes. Despite apocryphal attributions to Su Shi (苏轼), no contemporaneous records mention these pastries. The Wulin Jiushi describes moon-viewing with fruits and wine, while culinary texts like Wu-shi Zhongkui Lu (《吴氏中馈录》) detail “crisp cakes” resembling mooncakes in technique but not in name or seasonal association.

Modern mooncakes likely emerged during Yuan-Ming transition, possibly as covert rebellion symbols. The earliest reliable references appear in Ming texts like Wan Shu Za Ji (《宛署杂记》), describing mutual gifting of varied-sized “moon cakes.”

The Chrysanthemum Transformation: Chongyang’s Evolution

The ninth lunar month’s ninth day brought the Chongyang Festival (重阳节), whose customs evolved significantly from Tang to Song periods. While Tang poet Wang Wei (王维) immortalized chrysanthemum-wearing and mountain-ascending in his verses, Song practices emphasized chrysanthemum-adornment over the traditional dogwood (茱萸).

As poet Wang Yang (王洋) wrote: “Don’t spare the chrysanthemums on Chongyang – wear them all over your head!” Su Shi and Huang Tingjian similarly celebrated headfuls of autumn blooms. Yet dogwood persisted in medicinal wines, with gender-specific dosages (18 berries for men, 9 for women) believed to ward off evil.

Chongyang cakes (重阳糕) became edible art – rice-flour concoctions adorned with nuts, fruits, and elaborate Buddhist motifs. Some featured miniature elephant figurines (万象糕, punning “all things elevated”), while others bore deer shapes (食禄糕, homophonous with “official emolument”), reflecting Confucian career aspirations. Parents would place cake slices on children’s heads, chanting “May all things go high!” – an ancient precursor to modern academic pressure.

Conclusion: Living Calendars in Song China

The seasonal festivals surrounding Liqiu reveal Song Dynasty China as a civilization deeply attuned to nature’s rhythms while creatively expressing cultural values through food, dress, and ritual. From catalpa leaves to mohole dolls, from absent mooncakes to chrysanthemum-crowned revelers, these traditions wove together agricultural wisdom, religious syncretism, and artistic innovation into a vibrant tapestry of temporal celebration. As we examine these practices today, they offer not just historical insight but inspiration for reconnecting human rhythms with nature’s enduring cycles.