The Delayed Autumn
· Halil ETYEMEZ
As the calendar marks the beginning of autumn, the lingering summer heat and delayed rains highlight the profound impact of climate change on seasonal transitions, affecting agriculture and the natural world.
When we learned about the seasons in our childhood, our teacher would count the months in order: March, April, May for spring; June, July, August for summer; September, October, November for autumn; December, January, February for winter…
We would repeat it without hesitation. Summer ended on August 31st, and autumn began on September 1st. The calendar said so, and nature often confirmed it. When September arrived, mornings would cool, evenings shorten, the sky's color would change, and the leaves would slowly turn yellow.
Then we became teachers; we taught our students the same information. September, October, and November were autumn months. Autumn was the departure of summer, a walk towards winter, and nature's preparation for rest.
However, today, even though the calendar indicates autumn on September 1st, we are still experiencing summer outside. The sun continues to scorch, the soil remains dry, and the nights stay warm. Rains are delayed, leaves turn yellow late, and nature dons its autumn attire later.
The months haven't changed, but the seasonal characteristics carried by the months have begun to change.
Autumn is not just the name of three months. It has a deep meaning in our culture and literature. Autumn is the farewell of summer; it is a silent walk towards winter. It is nature withdrawing into itself, reducing its colors.
Hazan, on the other hand, is the name of the feeling that autumn leaves in the human soul.
When a yellowing leaf detaches from its branch, it doesn't just fall to the ground; it reminds us that time is passing. Shortening days, cooling evenings, migrating birds, and quiet gardens turn into a language of separation, transience, and farewell. For this reason, hazan is often associated with sadness, separation, and the passing of life in the words of poets.
Autumn is nature's calendar, while hazan is the heart's calendar.
However, hazan is not just sadness. It is also purification, rest, and preparation for rebirth. The tree sheds its leaves but does not give up on life. It retreats to its roots and prepares for the coming spring in silence.
Today, we feel that not only autumn but also hazan is delayed.
Of course, the calendar has not changed. September is still the first month of autumn. However, climate change is altering the way seasons are experienced. Summer heat extends into September, and in some years, into October. The cool and rainy weather of autumn is felt later. Winter arrives late; snow falls less or stays on the ground for a shorter period.
Rainfall is not only shifting to a later date; its pattern is changing. Intense rains falling in a short period after long droughts can lead to thirst on one hand and flood disasters on the other. The boundaries between seasons are gradually blurring.
The calendar starts autumn on September 1st; however, nature is not yet turning to hazan.
This change is not an issue to be dismissed by simply saying, 'September is also hot.' Delayed rain is delayed sowing for the farmer. Reduced snow is reduced water for the soil and reservoirs. Extended heat is a growing risk of forest fires. Confused seasons mean the disruption of the life order of flowers, bees, birds, and all living beings.
Climate change is no longer a future possibility but today's reality.
Therefore, we need a new environmental and climate ethic. We must use water sparingly, protect the soil, and plan agriculture according to changing climate conditions. We must design our cities not just for buildings and cars, but for people, trees, water, and all living beings. We must protect forests not only when fires occur but before they start.
It is not enough to teach our children the names of the seasons; we must also teach them the responsibility of protecting the seasons.
We learned and taught September as the beginning of autumn. Now, our duty is not only to give our children the information that 'September, October, and November are autumn months' but to leave them a world where they can truly experience autumn.
Because the hope of spring, the abundance of summer, the wisdom of autumn, and the tranquility of winter are the common heritage of humanity.
The months remain in place; but the seasons are shifting.
The calendar does not change; but the climate is changing.
Autumn is coming; but hazan is delayed.
Let us not only write poetry about hazan; let us protect hazan, rain, soil, and the four seasons together for our children. Because when nature's balance is disrupted, it is not only autumn that is delayed, but the future of humanity.
May you be entrusted to God. Please forgive me.