The room is still.
Afternoon sun spills through sheer curtains,
casting soft patterns on the wooden floor.
And then—
a chime.
Light.
Clear.
Gone almost before you realize it was there.
It’s not the kind of sound you expect in a modern Western home.
But there it is.
A small glass wind chime,
painted with bright red goldfish,
sways gently near the window.
This is a fūrin—the traditional Japanese wind chime.
A simple thing.
A glass bell, a clapper, and a strip of paper.
But when the breeze catches it,
it sings of summer.
You don’t need tatami floors or sliding shoji screens.
Here, above a Scandinavian-style plant shelf,
or beside a linen couch and a bookshelf full of Murakami and Woolf,
the fūrin still fits.
It doesn’t intrude.
It just adds… lightness.
When you hang a fūrin,
you’re not just decorating.
You’re inviting the wind to visit.
You’re inviting silence to be broken—
gently, briefly, beautifully.
Some guests will ask,
“What’s that sound?”
And when you tell them,
they’ll pause,
smile,
and understand something without needing to say much.
In a quiet room, even a breeze can speak.
And in that moment,
Summer begins.
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