When the Wind Can Be Heard
“Chirin.”
A single note slips into the room.
The afternoon nap ends slowly, leaving behind the weight of summer heat.
Still half asleep, there is a quiet feeling that perhaps the air is about to change.
As a child, it seemed that the sound itself brought coolness.
Light, clear, and delicate.
There was something almost magical about it.
Years later, another small truth became noticeable.
A wind chime remains silent when there is no wind.
In the middle of a hot summer afternoon, when the air stands perfectly still, it says nothing.
Only when the first breeze finds its way through does it answer.
“Chirin.”
The sound carries a coolness that feels almost too fragile to trust.
Yet somehow, it is enough.
Even now, every summer, the wind chime still rings―
“Chirin.”
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