SHARELIFE

The coming of FALL - Cho Ara

When I woke up in the morning, the smell of corn filled the kitchen.

Unlike the neatly arranged, bright yellow super-sweet corn, this was glutinous corn, each kernel with its own color and shape.

Holding a piece of corn that crumbled in my hand, I asked my mom, “Did you really pay for this?” Her answer, that someone she knew once farmed it and gave it to her, seemed quite elegant.

"Someone, sometime." There are moments when we need vague answers like this.

While I don't particularly like evasive responses, I find myself occasionally using them as I get older.

But then I asked her why she took the corn if she doesn’t even eat it. Her reply was even more ambiguous and elegant: "Because it’s fall.“

As I ate the corn, I carefully watched the flame of the gas stove.

There are many things that scare me, and fire is one of them.

I looked into the pot to see what was boiling, and it was full of chestnuts.

I’m not particularly fond of chestnuts, yet they seem to appear endlessly every fall—either given by someone or gathered by hand.

I’ve written about this before, but ever since we’ve had chestnuts in the house, I’ve been sleeping well at night.

I joked that boiled chestnuts have brought peaceful nights to my life. Playing on the homophones of "life" and "night,“

I made a silly pun. My mom asked, “Why are you making such a corny joke?” So I copied her earlier method and said, "Because it’s fall.“

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