August, Autumn is just around the corner. The soft golden rays of sunlight spread evenly over the country road. The season is clear, with dew drops hanging on the branches and leaves. Birds chirp and hop from branch to branch. The vast countryside fields are now left with only stubble. The quacking of ducks wakes up the old buffaloes who are busy on the dike. Children run around the fields to pick up the remaining old rice stalks. Some wade in the mud, pulling up clumps of stubble to catch crabs. Many small crabs are crawling around, with the sounds of joking and cheering bustling about.
In August, leaving behind the scorching summer days on the riverside, the children prepare their belongings for the new school year. The older children leave their books to the younger ones, and their clothes and shoes are gathered in one place. Taking advantage of the golden sunlight shining through the window, the children call each other to wash them and hang them on the fence next to the house. The old covers of the books are removed, and an extra layer of clothing is added, and they look new. The children in the countryside always cherish their school supplies, because they soon realize the hard work of their parents in the village fields and on the construction sites under the harsh sunlight. They collect the small change from selling crabs and snails every day, neatly stack them, and save them for the first school year.
In August, the guava tree at the end of the alley exudes a sweet fragrance. Clusters of fruit hang down, changing from green to pale yellow. Mischievous squirrels chase each other, swinging on the electric wires, and with a whoosh, they pass by the guava tree, their sharp eyes glancing around. In a moment, the guavas are still yellow, but hollow inside. The wind carries the scent all the way into the house. The children go out to the garden, picking the remaining fruits, some climb up the tree, laughing heartily. Taking advantage of the remaining leisurely days of summer, freely playing and climbing. Exploring the cool spaces of autumn. In the neighbor's garden, the scent of jackfruit and mango also attracts keen noses. "Underground races" take place in the dark. Somewhere, dogs bark loudly. Old men and women with canes stand in front of their porches, muttering "the devils, they're going to steal other people's fruits again".
In August, the lotus flowers bloom. The pink petals are faintly pink, floating and falling on the lake surface. The green leaves stretch high, casting large, round shadows, and pink shadows appear to take pictures and pose. A sampan appears under the lotus bushes. The farmer smiles kindly, also having a bumper harvest. In a year, selling both flowers and seeds, the lotus pond becomes a place to support families in the surrounding area. Every early morning, bicycles loaded with lotus flowers leisurely head towards the market. Feeling the elegance, gentleness and sophistication in the morning of the approaching autumn.
August just came gently, passed gently, but left behind many lingering memories of her, her student, of the lotus seller at the market entrance, of the farmer in the fruit-laden garden. The lingering scent in the space hidden in the evening. When the sunset falls, it seems like the dew drops are moving, weighing heavily on the branches and leaves. The sound of the sunset is the clatter of buffaloes returning to the barn, the sound of the residential security bell. The sound of someone calling the children to come home to bathe. The fire flickers brightly, the evening smoke drifts over the roofs. The countryside afternoon, cool, fresh, waiting for the first days of Autumn...
Article: Ngo Nu Thuy Linh
Illustration: Document
