Summer sun…

Under the sun… In May, the sun shines brightly on all roads. Early in the morning, the sun was already rising. Like this morning, the golden sun shines brightly, shining brighter than the blue patches of the sky and white clouds floating in the air. The streets I still go through every day to go to work, the cicadas have played the low-pitched music, the phoenix has sporadic flowering branches and the purple color of the mausoleum. The street suddenly seemed strangely different every day for the summer to the season. Sunny. Very sunny, especially at noon, everyone seems to be rushing on the road to “hide” from the sun. And I, in the depths of my heart, suddenly realized something real, and very real. It was early summer, on my way home from work in the midday sun, and strangely, I missed the sun. Seeing the sun suddenly miss the sun, the nostalgia seems to burst with the silence of worries with myself, with daily joys and sorrows… My birthday is on a day in May. I remember being busy when my mother told me that I must have been born in the sun, so I was black. And I innocently told myself to be like plants and flowers in the garden, growing up in the sun every day. It’s funny to remember the “young and buffalo” time in my hometown, because the sun gave me black skin through many sunny seasons, to forever remember the verses “Homeland is a bunch of sweet star fruit …”, or “Who told the blanket to be a blanket?” buffalo is suffering / I dreamily listen to birds singing high above…”. Yes, it’s like the earth, like the grass, but it’s good, struggling with the sun to cherish in my heart a pure and pure life, reaching up to the vast space, enjoying the sunshine and singing the song of fertility four Seasons… But think back, look at yourself. I used to be in the sun in the field on the beach, I used to rush on the village road with the blazing sun to go to school. Then just like that, I grew up and I went, saying goodbye to my hometown with the village’s bamboo ramparts disappearing to go to the city to study and find work and make a living. I “escaped” gardens, rice fields, rivers, boats and even kites full of wind in the clear blue sky, running away from the sun. And now, every day, I “hide” in working and living rooms with air conditioning or other amenities in the hot season in each passing day. But when I return to my hometown, in the early morning, I see the pure rays of sunshine and the dew drops of last night still wet in my mother’s vegetable garden, or the sunset sun shining in the dark purple horizon in the field. village. Sunshine for the green of the leaves, sunshine on the cheerful faces of children, on the smiles of the people in my hometown in the harvest season… She is innocent, she can see sunshine and sunshine everywhere. Suddenly, I found that, even though it was sunny, I was cool in the midst of the lovely countryside. Therefore, there are times when I miss the sun, an unrelenting nostalgia… In the early summer months of this year, I miss home, miss my hometown with immense sunshine in the distant fields. Homeland is harvesting rice. The people in my hometown are working hard in the fields from early morning until hot noon, or do not finish work until late at night. Sunshine is still sincere and transparent “participating” in their lives, a natural thing. The people of my hometown are still as sincere as the salty soil of the alluvial soil, like the plants and trees that work diligently in the sun to look forward to the bountiful seasons, so that life is full and peaceful for each passing day. Then, every time a meal, whether at home or in the field on the beach, the fatigue disappears, and the joy mingles with the sweet aroma in the pure white rice grains. I see more sunshine again… In the early summer days of May, the sun is still steadily starting each morning this morning. I wrote for me on my birthday, just like the melody of Trinh’s love song “Sunshine” is still earnestly “The color of the sun or the color of your eyes”, “The grass suddenly turns sunny”… Sunny fading into the vast memory. And I’m having a nostalgia. The sun gives me the desire to write something, after I finish writing it, I feel like it’s never been enough. Summer sun!…