There is a flower color on the bustling sea sand
(Baonghean.vn) - In his youth, that boy often sang among his friends a song about the sea hibiscus flower. He simply thought that it was a song he knew by heart like so many other love songs, but then, when I returned to his hometown, I was surprised to understand and love the song and that flower so much...
That plant, the flowers are purple to the utmost of desire, the leaves are green to the utmost of desire. Spreading on the burning sand during the hot summer months and the scorching Lao wind, a strip of Quynh beach, from Quynh Tho, Quynh Bang, Quynh Phuong... of Quynh Luu district, is green and purple.
The strange flower that grows on salty sand. The boy told me that the flower seeds come from the ocean currents. The seeds bury themselves in the sand, waiting for May - the month when the sun starts to get hot - to give people an unexpected gift. So what makes me doubt the miracles of nature, doubt the miracles of life that have so many challenges and hardships?
Because of their love for flowers and their gratitude for their mystery, people have created a beautiful love story for flowers. There was a young man named Bien, who loved a girl named Muong. To have enough dowry to marry the girl he loved, the young man went looking for fish on a stormy day. Then, he never returned after a fierce wave swept him out into the deep ocean. The girl sat on the beach waiting for her lover to return, exhausted by the white waves, and then she collapsed with sadness, transformed into a tree, its soft trunk seemed to want to reach down to the edge of the waves, and the flower bloomed with a longing, a longing...
Which fairy tale love story is not covered with a haunting beauty? But, only by standing on the sand, living life, even just for a day with a fisherman, can one know how many life stories have blossomed on the sand, more beautiful, more intense, more fierce than legends...
Haunting me is the story of the women of the small fishing village of Thanh Cong by the Quynh Long sea. Those who, since childhood, followed their mothers to the sea to welcome their fathers home every night, and then when they grew up, they went to the sand to welcome their husbands. There was a woman who witnessed her mother running along the beach, crying out her father’s name, and then she herself ran with a white scarf, calling out her husband’s name. Their footsteps pressed into the sand. Their calls were answered only by the white waves… Yet they still wiped away their tears and stood up, still believing in the sea. The sea is fierce and disastrous, but also generous and generous. And then, every night, those women of the fishing village, stood on the sand with a burning lamp in their hands, waiting for the man of their family to return, breathing in the salty breath.
The women sing lullabies to their children, sing lullabies to their own fate, saying: “Marrying a seafaring husband makes your soul hang on the mast”, but because they love, because they belong to the sea, how can they refuse? Just like that son, who told me: The sea morning glory looks fragile, but is incredibly strong. What, if not love, can help it have that incredibly strong strength?
Yes, the morning glory flowers, like the women who “married to the sea” in his hometown, chose the salty sand, chose the Lao wind, and relied on that hardship and saltiness to grow and bloom proudly. Believing that after that wave, the man they loved would return.
Flowers are simple and humble. Even their colors only want to soothe the eyes of whoever touches them. But they are burning, persistent, and loyal to a belief. Flowers have taught me so many things that if I didn't love them, how could I understand?
And these days, I return to my hometown's sandy fields. The sandy fields that are familiar to every fisherman, why are they suddenly strange this morning? Just because, the white sand, this morning suddenly turns purple with the color of flowers. The footsteps of those going to sea seem to slow down, afraid of stepping on the thin, trembling flowers. Is there a girl wandering on the beach at dawn, picking up a flower string, pinning it into a crown on her hair. Girl, are you dreaming a childhood dream? Or are you singing a song of the present? Is there a prince who will part the white waves and land on this shore with red sails?
That’s right, the unrealistic dreams, the anxious expectations… are all flying with a heart in love! Like sea morning glory – the color of love on the bustling sand.
