Ben Nom 2 rainy and sunny seasons

Nom Wharf in the dry season. Photo: Contributor

The first time I became an involuntary tour guide, in May, my photographer friend from Vung Tau came to visit, insisted on going to Ben Nom to take photos to satisfy his desire. From Dau Giay, we drove about 18km on Highway 20 towards Da Lat, wandering to Ben Nom in the hazy afternoon light.

I stood still, just for a few seconds, but it felt like time had stopped in the middle of a breath. Before my eyes was a stunningly beautiful natural scene. The afternoon had fallen, as light as the touch of time on the ground, covering the space with a layer of dreamy golden sunlight. The vast green grasslands at the foot of Cúi Mountain, herds of buffalo and cows were leisurely walking, leisurely grazing. Above, kites were flying in the clear sky, the sound of flutes was like a whisper of the wind, making the clouds poetic. A group of carefree shepherd children, their feet muddy, trampling on the grass, their heads in the sun, chasing each other to play, their laughter crisp. In the distance, fishing boats lay quietly, as if sleeping after a day drifting on the lake. Fishing nets were exposed to the red sunset.

What makes Ben Nom different this season is the layer of green algae that is quietly growing. I feel like the lake surface is covered by a soft, green cloak that nature has bestowed. From above, the photo taken by my friend's flycam makes me feel like I'm falling into a dreamland. I'm speechless before the beauty that seems to be opposite: land and water, quiet and immense, yet blending together like a predestined fate.

In the weak sunset light, the quiet brown of the land strips curls around the blue lake, the water seeps into the rich alluvial land like veins nourishing the land. The submerged islands, which were once quietly under the immense lake, now appear like a talented stroke to embellish the tranquil and enchanting ink painting.

The second time I came to this place, it was no longer a quiet May afternoon, where the sunlight fell gently like a sigh of time. It was an early morning, fog covered the vast lake. The space was hazy, people could not see each other's faces, only the sound of laughter and chatter of fishermen could be heard. They had been drifting on the waves for generations. Their lives were tied to the drifting waves, on the swaying boats through many rainy and sunny seasons. Their lives were simple but resilient, encapsulated in the two words "fish life"...

It was early morning, the dew was still on the grass, but the sound of people calling each other, the sound of oars splashing in the water, the sound of fish splashing in the hold was bustling all over the wharf. We walked around the market. Before my eyes were very large catfish struggling in the hands of fishermen. Today was a bumper day with a school of round, firm catfish, with shiny black scales. We gathered around to "demand" to buy. The fishermen here were very easy-going, they smiled in the dawn light, letting me freely catch the fish I liked. After that, we weighed them, calculated the price, and even gave them a free batch of shrimp to fry and use as rice paper. It turns out that people do not have to live in poverty to lose their generosity, but on the contrary, that generosity is always present in people who live in harmony with nature.

We left the fish market when the sun was already high in the sky. Sitting in the car, my mind was still filled with unspoken thoughts. It was strange, people living in the middle of the river, busy and hard-working all year round, but still kept a gentle smile like the new sunshine. Sometimes, just one visit is enough to make you love and remember. Suddenly I realized I had fallen in love with Ben Nom.

Nguyen Tham

Source: https://baodongnai.com.vn/dong-nai-cuoi-tuan/202510/ben-nom-2-mua-mua-nang-4e8024b/