Tree, I understand...

This year, the weather suddenly became extremely hot and sunny. Someone squinted and said, “A year begins with... summer” or “Summer is here, all that’s missing is the sound of cicadas”!

On the night of December 30th last year, before the New Year's Eve, the sky suddenly began to drizzle with light rain in the cold mist. Until the early morning of the first day of the Lunar New Year, my hometown, like many other places, was welcomed with a refreshing spring rain, trees sprouted and grew, fields and gardens were sparkling with green!

Yet this Spring, on the morning of the 30th, the fan was on, on the evening of the 1st, the fan was on, and on the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th, the temperature was still above or below 30 degrees Celsius? Someone sighed softly, "climate change" is so fast, I thought the sea level was rising, the temperature was increasing somewhere thousands of miles away, not... my hometown?

I didn’t have to think too far when I walked through the treeless road to wish my old friend a happy new year. Yes, not only at that time but perhaps at any time, riding a bike or walking, hurrying or slowly, I, like many people, certainly always longed and wished to walk under the rows of trees covered in shade, with branches and leaves swaying in the eternal sunshine and wind.

That simple, normal thing is not/has not been achieved, at least for me right now!

For a long time now, every spring, my hometown, my office and everywhere have a tree planting festival, many places have afforestation projects, greening bare land and hills. And countless ceremonies, big and small, with the eternal "tree planting" scene, then hanging names, attaching clear signs, propaganda, and advertising densely in the press and media.

When my agency inaugurated a new office building in the city during the rainy season, the provincial leader, who had many years of experience in the agriculture and forestry sector, asked us to immediately plant trees inside and outside the campus according to a specific plan. This practical action was responded to by many people, including those who were about to retire and took the trouble to find rare tree species, plant them, and carefully fence them, which everyone praised.

Right in my mountain village, the small road connecting National Highway 7A along Hon Dai to Hon Ran was upgraded by a successful native son a few years ago and he planted two rows of trees in the early spring of last year.

Planting trees in the home garden is nothing to talk about, but spending effort and money to plant trees on the mountainside by an individual is something that has never happened before here. The people who know the story in my village said so, not forgetting to "request" me to write a newspaper article even though the owner of the story did not want it.

From the two short stories above and from the hot, sunny early spring morning walking through a treeless road, I suddenly realized something and asked myself: Is what I think right, is it partly true?

That was the beginning, at my office, I and the person who was about to retire, the successful son of my hometown in the mountains... had the same starting point as many others: extremely enthusiastic, excited, working actively, contributing. Having done a meaningful thing like "planting trees for the future", "for the cause of planting trees"... but the result was just like that and that was it!

For nearly ten years now, I have not known how the rows of trees I helped plant have been cared for and protected. I also do not know if the retired cadre has visited the agency again and instructed his successors to take care of the "commemorative tree" so that it can grow branches and green leaves. As for the rows of trees in my mountainous hometown, I have passed by and returned many times and could not help but feel sad when I see them still stunted in the drought, with no one watering or caring for them except for the rain!

Having the opportunity to travel here and there, I have witnessed that in the middle of vast deserts, people still grow trees, still produce high-tech agriculture and achieve extremely high productivity compared to traditional rudimentary production. In the white sand coastal area of ​​our Central Vietnam, there are many international-class tourist areas, including flower gardens and ornamental plants growing on the sand, green and full of life, to the amazement and admiration of many visitors from near and far.

Speaking of this, I remember the story of the banyan tree in my hometown Nhan Hau village.

The over-hundred-year-old banyan tree, a testament to many events that stood tall in the village from 1930 to 1931, many stories my grandmother told, of my school days with dried banyan fruit in the not-so-distant past... On the occasion of the expansion and upgrading of National Highway 7A, the banyan tree was in the category of... violating the boundary, and had to be cleared! Many people did not agree but could only sigh and silently comply. My "extreme" uncle refused. He stood in the middle of the road, speaking loudly in front of everyone and the working group, "Don't cut down the banyan tree! We are willing to give up part of our land, our neighborhood to adjust the road appropriately. Do you agree with me, let's make a petition to the competent authority to resolve it!"

The small story of the banyan tree in my village is probably similar to the story of the row of trees on Pham Van Dong street - Hanoi, especially the love for trees, for the familiar living environment of people whether in the city or in remote villages.

I still walk along the rugged mountain road and only hope to find a shady, sheltered place to rest, like under the familiar banyan tree.

Tree, I understand...