Morning glory trellis

(Baonghean) - May comes in the typical hot and humid weather of early summer. The May sun reminds me of the cool green trellis of morning glory flowers and my mother's bowl of fragrant morning glory soup...

When the weather has just changed to summer, the twisted vines of the morning glory climb up the trellis, trying to stretch their fragile tips up to the old custard apple branch near the gate to weave a green roof of leaves to shade the small mossy path in front of the house. The morning glory trellis is only truly sparkling when the May sun shines like fire, shining into the axils of the leaves, making the buds of the small, fragrant flower clusters pop.

At first, the morning glory flowers were a pale green, as if the heavy rain last night had faded the silk shirt. After a few afternoons, diligently drying the small petals under the summer sun, each cluster of flowers bloomed, thin, radiant with a yellow color, gently exuding a fragrance. The scent of the morning glory was not as strong and intense as the scent of grapefruit, but only drifted slowly with the wind, blowing on the skin and hair of young women a gentle, shy, and youthful feeling.

After school, my sister likes to wander under the flower trellis, tilting her head back to look for and catch dragonflies, dragonflies drunk on the scent of morning glory and forgetting the way home. Sometimes she runs around chasing mischievous yellow butterflies, sometimes she quietly pricks up her ears to listen to the lovemaking of hornets... At noon, coming back from the fields, my mother often sits on a chair and picks a handful of morning glory flowers to cook with the field crabs she just caught. Sometimes my mother stir-fries them with mussels or simply boils them and dips them in soy sauce, which is also incredibly fragrant and sweet.

Illustration: Lam Manh

The cool, gentle taste of the morning glory combined with the rich, fatty taste of the crab and shrimp from the fields is so perfect. Under the morning glory trellis, in the afternoon, I like to set up a bamboo bed to prepare dinner on the porch, the simple meal is always filled with laughter. After eating, my father drinks green tea, puffs on tobacco, and the smoke billows out, looking extremely refreshing. My grandmother chews betel and talks about the old days... My sisters and I are all afraid of ghosts, but the more we listen, the more we like it. During those days, I still silently thank the fragrant morning glory trellis for creating such warm moments of reunion for us.

On moonlit nights, I like to lie in a hammock under the flower trellis, watching the yellow chandeliers swaying in the wind, and catching the golden moonlight falling through the gaps between the heart-shaped leaves. Listening to the cool wind blowing in from the fields. Listening to the sound of fish splashing in the pond. Listening to summer coming through the symphony of cicadas chirping on the banyan and royal poinciana trees along the inter-commune road... Thinking back to those old days, time seems to stand still, my heart feels warm and wistful. The return of the season under the morning glory trellis is so cool and peaceful.

The flower of the sky is not only a rustic, cool vegetable in country meals, but it is also a medicine. When I was a child, I still saw my mother drying the flower of the sky, making water for her to drink. My mother said that in oriental medicine, the flower of the sky is called night li huong, the roots, leaves, and flowers all have medicinal properties, especially as a sedative that is very beneficial for health, curing insomnia in the elderly.

During my student days, far from home, in the middle of a scorching summer day, eating a dry piece of rice, I craved so much a bowl of water lily soup with shrimp. On full moon nights, looking at the lonely moon hanging in the middle of the city sky like a sad face made my nostalgia roll back, I missed the fragrant water lily trellis of my hometown.

Phan Ha Long