Remember the hibiscus fence

On summer days, when the golden sun shines on each green leaf, I suddenly become a person of the old days, my heart always remembers my hometown, remembers the green hibiscus fence to prevent the blooming of red flowers. around the garden of sweet fruit in Tho Ha ancient village. The dream of the old place, ie home, regularly appeared several times a week in my head. It is still a three-room tiled house with yin and yang tiles, the color of time covered with moss, a spacious red brick yard in the early morning, she often sweeps the yard with a bamboo broom, and a hibiscus fence trimmed by her father. Neatly surrounds the garden full of greenery.

Time kept filling in the memory area with the image of a hibiscus fence as high as the head of a seven-year-old boy in Tho Ha ancient village. In the afternoons, I often stand by the hibiscus fence and call my fellow neighbors whenever I want to play hopscotch, marbles or smack. You slipped from the other side of the fence through the hibiscus trees and into my house. Other times, I went under the fence to your friend’s house. Going back and forth, for a long time it became a path, between the rows of hibiscus like a tiny cave. Every time I go through the hibiscus fence, my clothes get blackened by the sap. My mother yelled mercilessly when she couldn’t wash the plastic stains. I hugged my face and cried. But innocent and carefree childhood, cry today, forget it tomorrow. Following the call, I slipped through the hibiscus fence to play with my friends.

Sometimes my memory ran out, I thought I could no longer remember the taste or image of the hibiscus flower clearly, but then suddenly a familiar image appeared in my head, I remembered it clearly, in a real way. strange. Each hibiscus flower is composed of five large fragile petals that flutter like butterflies, in the middle of the flower, there is a protruding proboscis, on the trunk there are many thin strands of silk attached, and the tip is dark yellow. Hibiscus has no taste, but it is an irresistible flower that attracts the eyes of people or butterflies. The hibiscus season is in full bloom, the fence is like a row of flowers surrounding the garden in Tho Ha ancient village, reminding me of the fairy castle in the old story my mother told me.

When we were children, we didn’t know what technology was, and we lived in the countryside, so the hibiscus fence accidentally became an interesting place for us to play. The girls picked hibiscus flowers for their heads, and plucked the leaves to form a laurel wreath. Bored of playing, again while hungry, they pulled out the hose in the middle of the flower to suck up every tiny drop of water. The drops of water have a sweet, clear taste that everyone likes.

In the familiar garden corner, I remember all the faces of my friends. We grew up on the fence, from the mud and dirt. It was a peaceful memory, full of laughter. The time was poor but carefree. We have walked hand in hand through many seasons of beloved hibiscus flowers. Then suddenly the memory melted into the stillness, the agonizing pain of a person reaching adulthood. I regretted and broke my heart when the hibiscus fences were replaced by sturdy brick and limestone walls. Although I really wanted to keep it, but for the safety and security of the garden, my house had to replace it.

It’s just a hibiscus fence, but it’s all the years of my childhood and my friends growing up with sweet fond memories. It is often said that time will erase everything, but what I, my friends in the village cherished in the past, will forever never fade.

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