Crape myrtle in June

Crape myrtle in June

BPO - June is here.

The color purple, like the crape myrtle.

June has always stirred up emotions in journalists. This June, however, my heart is filled with mixed feelings and a whirlwind of changes…

Turning over old mementos, I unfolded the yellowed scroll still bearing my bold, faded pencil marks from the original painting of the ancient crape myrtle tree perched precariously on the hillside.

That old tree trunk has become a part of my memories over the years.

***

Bà Rá and a tranquil hill nestled amidst delicate rays of sunlight, once served as the heart of radio and television broadcasts, a place where memories quietly intertwined to form indelible recollections. There, an ancient crape myrtle tree stands silently, a witness to countless changing seasons of rain and wind.

In the early days of setting foot on this hill, I kept looking at the crape myrtle tree, and my heart swelled with pride. Its sturdy trunk rose amidst the harshness of nature with unwavering resilience, just like us – the " wave keepers" – steadfast and silent.

***

Sketch by: Sy Hoa

June

The crape myrtle season.

Clusters of purple flowers, swaying gently in the sunlight, evoke the innocent dreams of a poor scholar secretly in love with Princess Bang Lang, who descended to earth in a fairy tale from long ago.

Then the season passed, the flowers fell, their purple petals swaying gently in the wind, like moments lived to the fullest that have now drifted away, leaving behind the lingering echoes of a glorious time.

Time flows by.

We change just like that crape myrtle tree.

There are days when the stormy weather on the summit of Ba Ra Mountain washes away all other sounds, leaving only the rumbling of thunder amidst the gloomy mountains and forests, like the challenges of a profession that once left us feeling uncertain…

Time flows by.

I gradually became accustomed to the mountain and forest nature; familiar with the early morning crowing of wild roosters and the nocturnal sounds of the animals and plants here; waiting for the wind, playing with the clouds; welcoming the daytime sun and waiting for the moon to hang in the sky.

I'm familiar with climbing, carrying " images" and " sounds" across every rock and path leading to the " gateway to heaven" in my journey to keep the waves and connect sounds to all corners of the world.

Time flows by.

I and that crape myrtle tree will always be together. The color of the tree tells me the color of life and time. The dew evaporates and then settles, the wind stops and then stirs, day and night just keep flowing.

Time flows by.

The crape myrtle tree has also become accustomed to rain, wind, thunder, and lightning, just as we have learned to stand firm, embrace change, and calmly continue our journey.

…And perhaps, in this quiet moment today, we have left a small, ancient mark on the hillside full of purple hues. Leaving behind that mountain, a low note in the many layers of the symphony of memories.

***

The old days…

The antennas, splayed haphazardly across the rooftops, resemble outstretched arms searching the air for a glimmer of life's vibrant colors and joys.

The images and sounds of the old television and radio are now silent and still. They allow memories of the past to evoke the majestic chants, folk songs, and traditional melodies that generations once eagerly awaited.

The old days…

Now, only the faint, bold, and subtle traces of time remain in the painting of the crape myrtle tree that I painted years ago.

***

June has arrived.

The old crape myrtle tree on the hillside, with time, grew old and its branches and leaves fell. The purple blossoms gradually faded, like the sadness of the princess remembering the poor scholar of yesteryear. Was it someone's voice or the rustling of the forest that echoed that sorrow and loss…

Probably not!

Deep down, it was just a pause, a moment of silence for transformation.

The crape myrtle's roots have firmly anchored the hillside, nurturing a new green hue. Where the branches are dry and broken, a tender new shoot still emerges, a symbol of rebirth.

Old memories don't fade away; they quietly blend into new rhythms. Just like the life of a tree: from a tiny seed, it grows, blossoms, and bears fruit, following the evolutionary course of life.

Then came the day when the leaves withered, the branches dried, the flowers faded, and the tree seemed to bow before the laws of nature, before the impermanence of life!

How sad, that ancient crape myrtle tree never tried to cling to spring, never resisted the changing winds and rains. That crape myrtle tree lived fully in every moment, gathering for life countless vibrant blossoms.

***

June is here…

I remember the purple flowers that once filled the hills with a sky full of longing.

There are moments of silence and stillness at certain times. But that doesn't disappear; it's as if it's slowly transforming into a new form.

And…

I still hope that one day, the old hill will be covered in purple flowers again…

Crape myrtle in June!

Binh Phuoc , June 2025

Source: https://baobinhphuoc.com.vn/news/9/174161/bang-lang-thang-6