Nostalgia named August

In August, my nostalgia for Tho Ha ancient village begins from a sweet garden full of fruit. There, my grandmother in the early morning stooped, slowly walked out to visit some pomelo trees after returning home. The thin, wrinkled hand covered with age spots touched the grapefruit, she muttered: “August sun tans grapefruit”. That’s when I realized with only a few days left, the pomelos could be eaten. The August sun makes the grapefruit peel tan, the citrus also starts to be more succulent and sweeter. The Mid-Autumn Festival has not yet come, but she still drops some fruits for her children and grandchildren to eat first. She said that the first fruit of the season is always the most delicious, she wants to let her children enjoy it to the fullest.

Some guava trees are also ripe, the fruit is round, the peel is glossy, and the inside is a delicious pink color that is hard to resist. My sisters and I always take advantage of the guava tree to check, if the fruit is ripe, we will pick it up right away, but if it’s a little late, the swarms will come and peck it. Referring to the garden without mentioning the tree is probably a huge omission. The small fruit tree dangles on the bright green foliage, giving off a sweet scent. Although thi is not a delicious fruit to eat, any child will love it. In the pocket of each child’s pants, shirt pocket also has a fruit to smell. Meet each other, talk and laugh, show off to each other and review the fairy tale of Tam Cam every year.

In August, Tho Ha ancient village is waiting for a heavy rain. For adults, heavy rain can make them bored, but for children, it is fun. Because the downpour followed many interesting games of the children. On days when the water was flooded with white fields, the children eagerly rowed boats to fish and fish for shrimp. Sometimes they even have the guts to swim from house to house. Wait for the water to recede, then let go, let loose to catch perch, lily fish, scad… Remembering the rainy evenings, holding a broken bicycle tire in hand to light up the village road, all the children went to look for frogs. .

The August meal consists of only fish, shrimp, and frogs caught in the field, yet the food is surprisingly delicious. In part, it is probably thanks to the cozy family atmosphere. Later, when I left Tho Ha ancient village, far from my parents’ arms, alone in the city, I craved so many rustic dishes but became the “brand” of August at home.

When August came, I suddenly remembered lovingly the figure of my mother and father on the red dirt village road, the rain rhymes still wearing a shirt to pull potatoes and pick up duckweed. Potato beds must be “harvested” before water stagnates and rots. Mother’s calloused hands, father’s hard bent back, quietly used their strength to give their children enough peace.

The old August is for the children to remind, review a beautiful time in childhood and cherish the present maturity. To see how lucky and happy I am to have my parents accompanying, protecting and tolerant of failures. August with seemingly trivial things, but it is a solid luggage for me to step into life. August like that, the moments that even in a dream, the whole life wishes to return once…

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