My village is located next to the river. Like many other villages in Vietnam, when near a river, there will definitely be a dike. It is a very familiar image, a protection for the village, containing the childhood memories of many generations.
There were times when I was so tired from work that I would sit on the dike, facing the river and enjoying the breeze. The wind from the river blew coolly into my face, blowing away all my stress and worries, giving me back a sense of serenity and peace. I let myself lie down on the soft green grass, resting my head on my arm, looking at the blue sky and white clouds. A whole range of memories rushed back, stirring my heart, pure, sweet emotions rising up and caressing my mind.
Remembering my childhood days, also on this dike, my bare feet used to run and play on the grass. The village dike was covered with clover and chicken grass, they had a strong vitality, intertwined, crowded together, green and endless. That grass was the playground of the country children. That grass was like a soft mattress for me to lie down and fall asleep after the football match that afternoon.
In the summer, the grass flowers bloom densely along the paths and dike slopes. The purple color of the flowers creates a gentle beauty, they seem to put on the dike a new coat, both strange and familiar. Here and there are mimosa bushes, small, pretty purple flowers, only the size of humble buttons, like the beauty of a village girl. Those colors sow a peaceful feeling in people's hearts.
On harvest days of years ago, when agriculture still relied mainly on human strength, on the back of the dike was a group of people carrying rice. Looking from afar, the group of people moved rhythmically, the heavy bundles of rice swayed to the rhythm of people's footsteps. That scene made people feel happy, it was a picture of prosperity, prosperity gradually moving towards the village. People carried rice home, passing through dense patches of clover, which took the opportunity to cling to people's pants. Clover flowers are strange, wild and strong, sometimes making people feel annoyed like that. No one knows how long they had to spend for the women and mothers to remove the clover from the pants, but for the girls, it was the opposite, they were happy about that. Why? On summer nights after the harvest, the girls would meet their lovers on the dike. The girls would pick up all the clover flowers clinging to the pants of their lovers. Then they would remove the clover from the pants they were both wearing. Those couples were so engrossed in picking clover that they forgot to go home late at night. Under the moonlight, they whispered and confided sweet and tender things. There were weddings that took place after moonlit nights like that, and the village dike was the place to witness their love.
I still remember the story my grandparents used to tell about the flood more than half a century ago. That historic flood forced them to move their house to the hillside to escape the flood, and then settle down here as they are now. It is a story about the great floods that the dike was not strong enough to withstand. In fact, the dike has struggled to protect the villagers through many flood seasons. The village dike is a brave shield protecting people and crops, the dike has been a silent benefactor, so that after the floods, it is green again with peace.
There were times when I sat pensively on the dike and wondered, how long will the village dike last with people? But then I also affirmed to myself that the dike, the windy dike slope will forever be there gently, next to the rivers, bringing a peaceful and gentle land, because I know there will be many people like me who love the windy dike slopes. And the dikes are still forever green, with a very gentle scent of grass and flowers, and the wind still blows away the dust of the city, dispelling the fatigue in the lives of the children of the beloved village...
Article: Le Minh Hai
Illustration: Document
