Vinh street in autumn is very autumn
(Baonghean.vn) - At that time, the street was covered in mist in the reddish light of the day. And the milk flower was so fragrant that I felt as if I just had to reach out and it would rush in and lie still between my fingers...
Have a corner to calm down
“Xuong” is a small coffee shop nestled at the end of a very small street on Vinh Street - Vo Thi Sau Street. Buon Thanh - a photographer friend - took me here, and firmly said: On a very autumn day like this, you should come to “Xuong”. That is where you will feel very peaceful. My girlfriend often comes here, even just to sit alone and…read a book.
Thanh often affectionately calls his wife like that: girlfriend. A few months ago, he surprised and doubted everyone when he decided to marry a girl who loved books, and had a “soul hanging upside down on a tree branch”. His wife was also in that situation, a dreamy girl who finally decided to live with “a wild horse”, full of “dust” that was Thanh. Those two pieces of the puzzle, precarious and lonely in life, but in the end, they fit together. Thanh once compared, “like a book”, that: The frivolous summers of my life have passed, now is the “true autumn” stage of my life to calm down. And luckily, I have chosen a “dock” to slow down my heart, to melt away…
Thanh often takes his wife to the “Workshop”, while he is busy taking pictures of the unique, strange, and old corners of this small shop, his wife calmly stretches her long legs on a chair and holds a dreamy book in her hand. This season, sitting there, one can watch the blue sky, watch the climbing flower bushes, the pretty potted plants, the small pieces of wood hung with poems and playful proverbs, the old assembled tables and chairs, the painted doors, the ceramic vases with small wild flowers silently in the sunlight, the little cat sitting on the windowsill, the sound of the cool wind carrying the cold of late autumn rustling on the swaying custard apple leaves in the yard…
It was a surprise when Thanh introduced the shop owner to me. Ngoc Anh - the shop owner has a rather feminine name and is very young, born in 1992. I thought this small shop must belong to an older person who loves nostalgia. It was even more surprising when the shop owner shared: I believe that each of us has had a dream of opening a small shop for ourselves. That is because people dream of a corner to live for their own desires. I made this shop, not in any specific style, nor did I learn from anyone, I just arranged and created them the way I wanted, I think. What I love is peace and I created that peaceful space for myself.
My house is all the way in Quan Banh, but last year, in the fall, I had the chance to pass by this place. Before, it was also a coffee shop, but the previous owner built it in a different style. But when I sat down in this place, I knew I belonged to it, because the feeling it brought was exactly what I had dreamed of. Luckily, the previous owner wanted to sell it, and I bought it. Here, do you see, our city suddenly becomes so gentle. The shop is still crowded with young people, but the shop's motto is always followed: "walk lightly, speak softly, smile charmingly". In the afternoons, groups of music lovers often come by, they sit and play the guitar, and sing clear, yet soulful songs by Le Cat Trong Ly, for example. I sit and watch them, watch the street, and find life so lovely, sister!
And Thanh also confided that there were times when he brought his wife here, she was so absorbed in the space or the books that she forgot his presence. At first, he was also angry, but then, he suddenly realized that watching his bookish girl immersed in her own world also had some interesting aspects. I suddenly realized, oh, that's it, finding a familiar corner of the shop still contained a bit of sympathy. My Vinh Street, love is like that, when there are places where people come to calm down and... watch each other.
When each person is a melody
Singer Minh Thu sang the song “Hanoi and you when autumn comes to winter” very well, but my Vinh street also has many people singing that song, with their own melody. Like Hung – a “fisherman”, for example. He said he could sit and fish all day on Cua Nam fish pond. The fish pond, a long-abandoned floating house with rusty iron pillars. The water surface is calm, but sometimes it is disturbed by the cold wind. The surrounding acacia trees shed their yellow leaves. The xuyến chi bushes call the bewildered dragonflies to come. Hung said, fishing is like the pleasure of a “hunter”, but sometimes Hung forgets that “pleasure”, and instead lets himself wander into the silence and stillness of this place. Both loving and regretful. Loving this rare quiet place in the heart of the city, but regretful because it should have been beautifully renovated into a playground and sightseeing area. Hung did not know, but the figure sitting quietly like a statue by the lake that afternoon painted in me a picture of the end of autumn. Or perhaps it could be said, it was like a silent note in the gentle autumn melody of my Vinh city.
Or like Ms. Thuy. She is from Hung Nguyen, sitting in Cua Nam flower garden with many other "colleagues", on the days off from farming, they go to the city to earn extra money by cleaning and helping with chores. Thuy sits under the shade of the xà xu trees, in the protective work shirt she bought at a stall on Le Loi street, in front of her is a bicycle neatly tied with "tools" such as baskets, shovels, rubber gloves and cloth gloves, a grass cutting sickle... While waiting for someone who needs a job, Thuy and the other women happily tell stories about their husbands and children. When someone calls to hire them, Thuy quickly pedals away, her shirt covered in sweat against the midday wind, her smile sparkling with the light still lingering behind the green shadows of the trees.
On the shore of Goong Lake, there is a locksmith named Hung who has been doing this job for 38 years. He said he loves this corner of his very much. The corner where every afternoon like this, the sun shines on his face and the bunch of keys hanging in front of the small counter is warm and gentle. He said this is the most beautiful place in the city when Autumn comes.
Just look, right below where he sat was a royal poinciana tree shedding its leaves like tiny sunspots. The grass under his feet was very green. The lake surface seemed to be covered with blue mist with a white swan boat floating as if it had forgotten to sleep in the middle of the water. By the lake, soft willows cast graceful shadows. There were some remaining red willow flowers fluttering and burning brightly in the sunset. Every 4:30 or 5 o'clock, there were a lot of people going to exercise by the lake! From 2-year-old children following their grandparents and parents out to play and enjoy the cool breeze, to young people, middle-aged people and even old people walking with canes.
The locksmith named Hung enthusiastically told about his autumn street corner, while his hands were still busy making locks. He said, although we only passed each other every afternoon, everyone knew each other by face and became close friends. “Like that old man, for example. He had a stroke a few years ago, his house is on Tran Phu street, but every afternoon he uses his cane to stand and walk around the lake.”
It turns out that the old man who still uses his cane to go to the lake every afternoon is originally from the North. He is Do, from Nam Dinh, married a woman from Vinh city and settled here since 1975. He and his wife have no children, and are living with their grandchildren. He said, after experiencing so many joys and sorrows in life, isn’t the last thing he desires this peace? Every afternoon, he leaves the walls of his familiar house to slowly use his cane to go to the lake. That is the moment he wants to blend into the city.
He walked slowly on the paving stones. He passed by the parasol tree whose leaves had fallen this season right at the corner of his house. He crossed Truong Thi Street, where Ho Chi Minh Square was, and looked up at the last remaining purple Lagerstroemia flower on a branch, and was surprised by its late bloom and its resilience: “Maybe it is the last Lagerstroemia flower left in the city” - he said to himself. Then he walked around under the palm trees, around to Phan Dang Luu Street along the lake. He talked to some shirtless old men wearing umbrellas for exercise, or some boys fishing by the lake, and smiled down at the 4-year-old boy who was leaning forward to pedal his tricycle with excitement. He said that he was lucky and happy to still be able to see this life flowing, to see the sun shining, to see the red color of the willow flowers hanging on this turbulent lake. All the worries seemed lighter in his heart…
And so do I, chatting with him, or with Thanh, with the owner of Ngoc Anh coffee shop, with the porter at Cua Nam flower garden, with the fisherman... all to realize how necessary the slow, quiet moments are amidst the daily hustle and bustle of the city. I also think like Thanh, heaven and earth give us "autumn days that are so autumnal" like that, so that we can recognize ourselves, recognize each other, to love life more and love the place we are relying on more...
Thanks for the autumn days on my Vinh street!
