Mid-Autumn Festival · Traditional Festival Feature

The Mid-Autumn Festival falls on the fifteenth day of the eighth lunar month, exactly midway through the three autumn months—hence "mid-autumn." Its origins reach back to the moon-sacrifice rites of autumn evenings in the pre-Qin era; the Book of Rites records that "the Son of Heaven worshipped the sun at dawn in spring and the moon at dusk in autumn," a rite performed west of the capital around the Autumn Equinox—an ancient observance by which our ancestors honored Heaven and followed the balance of yin and yang. By the Tang dynasty, moon-viewing had grown fashionable; Ouyang Zhan, in his preface to a Chang'an moon-viewing poem, wrote that "within autumn, the eighth month begins the last of the seasons; on the fifteenth night, the moon sits at the very middle of the month"—the moon at its fullest, the autumn at its clearest, the perfect hour to look up. Through the long peace of the Song dynasty, Mid-Autumn became a festival for all the people; the Dongjing Dream Record recalls that "on the Mid-Autumn night, noble houses decked their terraces and pavilions, while common folk vied for seats in taverns to watch the moon," strings and pipes ringing through the streets, the night markets open till dawn—and from that time, the longing for reunion took root in every heart.

The heart of the festival is one full moon. At nightfall, tables are set with offerings and the moon is worshipped; in old days, women made their wishes to the moon, hoping for beauty like its radiance and marriage as round as its rim, while scholars raised their cups to the wind and poured out their feelings in verse. After the offerings, the family sits together and shares mooncakes, round as the moon itself—round meaning reunion. In the south, people walk the moonlit streets with lanterns, adding their light to the moon's own; in Guangdong they raise tree lanterns and burn tile towers, and in Jiangsu and Zhejiang, women stroll together on "moon walks"—night journeys to visit kin and friends by moonlight. Admiring the osmanthus is another elegant pursuit: the blossom is said to fall from the moon itself, its fragrance riding the autumn breeze, and to pluck a sprig is to hint at winning laurels in the imperial examinations.

At table, the mooncake comes first. Cantonese lotus-paste, Suzhou flaky crust, Beijing "self-red" cakes—sweet in the south, savory in the north, each region its own pride. In Guangdong and Guangxi, taro is served, for "taro" sounds like "surplus," a wish for abundance every year; in Jiangsu and Zhejiang, the crabs are fat, and the season is perfect for holding a claw while watching the moon, with osmanthus wine and osmanthus cakes completing the taste of autumn.

Countless poems praise the moon. Three are chosen here to share:

Zhang Jiuling, "Gazing at the Moon, Thinking of the Distant" (Wang Yue Huai Yuan): 海上生明月,天涯共此时. 情人怨遥夜,竟夕起相思. — Over the sea the bright moon rises; at this moment the ends of the earth share its light. Lovers resent the endless night, and through it all, longing awakens.

Su Shi, "Prelude to Water Melody: When Did the Bright Moon Appear" (Shui Diao Ge Tou): 人有悲欢离合,月有阴晴圆缺,此事古难全. 但愿人长久,千里共婵娟. — People have sorrows and joys, partings and reunions; the moon has its waxing and waning, its bright and dim—nothing, since ancient times, has ever been perfect. Yet may we live long and share this gentle radiance across a thousand miles.

Wang Jian, "Gazing at the Moon on the Fifteenth Night, Sent to Director Du" (Shi Wu Ye Wang Yue Ji Du Lang Zhong): 今夜月明人尽望,不知秋思落谁家. — Tonight, under this bright moon, all eyes turn upward; yet into whose home will the autumn longing fall?

The moon as image is round and luminous, still and clear. Roundness is the ultimate metaphor for human reunion; the osmanthus, noble and fragrant, is autumn's herald of scent; the jade rabbit pounds the medicine of immortality, embleming long life and tenderness; Chang'e flees to the moon, a strand of solitary and enduring longing. The Mid-Autumn Festival takes the moon as its center, gathering into one round moon, one mooncake, one cup of clear tea the reverence between Heaven and humankind, the warmth of worldly hearths, and the care of hearts united across ten thousand miles.

In keeping with the twenty-four solar terms, Mid-Autumn usually falls between White Dew and the Autumn Equinox. At White Dew, "the dew is white from tonight," autumn deepening—the very season when "the moon is brightest over one's hometown"; at the Autumn Equinox, day and night are equal and cold and heat in balance, and it was here, in the equinox moon-sacrifice, that the festival found its source—yet because the equinox does not always bring a full moon, the fifteenth of the eighth month was chosen instead, for the full moon accords better with the human heart. Watch the moon and know the season; eat in step with nature. Mid-Autumn is the fullest reunion of light, poised between the clear autumn of White Dew and the balanced autumn of the Equinox.