Waiting for another sunflower season

(Baonghean.vn)- In the thousand-acre sunflower field, the first petals are about to bloom, opening a flower festival season. Just like when I was a child, holding a pink firecracker in my hand, I waited for the first flowers to bloom, expecting the sound of the firecrackers to be pleasant to the ears, but my chest was pounding.

Waiting for sunflower season is an excited mood of many people every winter.

My friend who has been away from home to the south for more than 10 years has not returned home. She only remembers Nghia Dan as a land of endless reeds and green fields all year round. The nostalgia gradually fades over the years because of the dust of the city. Suddenly one day, while online, she saw her hometown glowing with the color of sunflowers. In winter, the flowers bloom yellow all over the fields like a gentle, bright ray of sunshine. She said that the yellow color brings comfort to people far from home like her, even if they only see it through an electronic interface.

To be seen from the flower buds...

I had once been lost in a season of yellow flowers like that, so I thought I understood a little of her feelings. But in reality, when I looked at the light and dark patches on a newly bloomed flower, I was not so confident that I understood her thoughts. This year, the flowers in Nghia Son field were about to bloom, so I just sent a short message: Another sunflower season is about to begin. This year, people are holding a festival.

....until it blooms.

She said the flowers on the electronic interface seemed to want to drag her to the airport, to travel more than a thousand kilometers to immerse herself in the yellow color of sunflowers. A yellow color more intense than the apricot color of the South and more elegant than the wild sunflowers on the hillsides of Da Lat, where she set foot every year in the fall. A thing that she could not find in her entire childhood, the desolate, low hills of her hometown.

I felt guilty and blamed myself for being foolish for planting such an image in her heart. Even though there were times when I could not control myself in front of the yellow color of the vast sunflower field. I was in a hurry because I regretted every moment of blooming in this illusory and also unfair world. I had to send another message: Come back when the flowers bloom.

With the yellow color stretching endlessly.

Looking at the buds about to bloom on the electronic interface of a young person using Facebook, I held my breath waiting for a new flower season. Just like when I was a mischievous student. Tet comes, holding firecrackers in my hand and adding a long wire. Lighting them, then stepping back, looking back and waiting for the first series of explosions to ring out. It sounds so pleasant to the ears while my chest beats like a drum.

It is a scene where many people, especially young people, can freely pose.

I eagerly waited for the first flower to bloom, then one by one the flowers in the thousand-acre field bloomed like a string of fireworks to open the new season, leaving me to melt in the yellow color. The feeling that only happens once a year in the flower field and makes me forget all my friends, relatives, and the hardships of work. Make me forget who I am and where I come from, forget all the time-space immersed in the hazy yellow color.

In the gloomy winter, the yellow color of sunflowers becomes even warmer.

She texted me back a sentence that broke my heart: I won't be back this flower season. In a moment of disappointment, I suddenly realized that I would be the loneliest person in the flower field. But the excitement and anticipation for a season of bright yellow flowers still did not subside. I consoled myself that life is interesting because there is no perfect piece or dreamland. Only the four seasons of Autumn - Winter - Spring - Summer are faithful. They will return when scheduled. This winter, I will have a consolation for my loneliness in the sunshine on the flower field. Surely this year's flower festival will be bustling with people from all over.

Sunflower season therefore becomes the season of reunion, the season of dating...

As if she could read my mind, she sent me a picture of the bright yellow church. The bell tower stood out like a sunflower against the blue sky. She sent me a message as if it were a promise: I will come back next year during the flower festival.

Bun My - Nguyen Books