with the snap of mother nature's fingers, the seasons have changed places again. autumn brushes summer off its humid perch with chilly fingers. the invading shade of fall scatters the summer cicadas along with their electric hum. as the wind picks up, the guardian trees surrender the most colourful of their decorative flags. the smell of the air, once thick with heat, sweat and a pungent medley of rot and decay, is swept into the cracks and the kind scent of the earth's exhale floods the breadth of the cities' streets.
necks knotted with scarves and cheeks frosted in rosy blossoms. it shall not be long before the land finishes exhaling and begins to hold it's breath for the long months of winter. with another snap of the fingers, ondol will once again realize its purpose.
