Sea of Tomorrow

A seagull soars toward the red sun. The afternoon slowly falls. At sea, although the sun has long since set, darkness creeps down to the water's surface very slowly. The twilight often lasts a long time. I have sat in the cold and watched the turbid waves roll and break on the sand, when the sea is immersed in the fierce winter wind. Then suddenly it passes when the sea enters autumn or spring. The four seasons are still the rustling sound of each wave, but only in summer does the sea shine a silky blue, matching the color of the sky.

I was born in a fishing village, opening the door of my house, I could see the sea. Throughout my childhood, the fishing boats painted in bright green and red always had a special attraction for me. In the afternoons, when the ships docked, I loved to immerse myself in the bustling atmosphere of buying and selling at the fishing port. When I woke up with the sunrise on the sea or sat watching the afternoon gradually sink into the vast blue, I always found excuses to hang around the bobbing hulls of the ships. Watching the buying and selling scene at the foot of the waves, I felt warmth and hope kindled in my heart in the vastness of the ocean.

Fishing villages are often devoid of men, because they are often associated with the work of drifting on the waves. The eyes of those at home, therefore, also look far away, waiting. The story about the legend of the Waiting Husband Stone of the ancient Vietnamese people, which created the scene of a wife holding her child waiting for her husband from the sea, has cast a long gaze throughout history. Until now, the eyes of fishing villages still watch day by day for calm seas, for those far away at sea to have strong feet and soft stones. In the return of each ship, in addition to the joy from the fruits of hard, greater labor, there is also the happiness of peace and reunion. Perhaps, nowhere contains as many dangers and uncertainties as the deep sea. But then, for the sake of making a living, from generation to generation, people still continue the profession and attach themselves to the sea.

And also because of the desire for calm seas, every fishing village has its own sacred rituals. Along the length of the country, there are as many fishing villages as there are ways to worship the gods to pray for peace for those drifting on the waves. Vietnamese people have great faith in all things having animism, as long as people have sincerity. When I was a child, when I first saw the fishing ceremony of my hometown, I was surprised by the elaborateness and sophistication when I saw the women preparing the offerings. Each place has its own way, only the sincerity is the same, the wishes are also very similar.

An afternoon filled with wind all around. The winds coming from the sea carry a salty taste. I sat and watched the ship hulls from far away, from when they were just a small dot until I could reach out and touch each piece of rustling wood, smell the strong fishy smell of seafood, see the bright smiles on the faces darkened by the sun and wind. Suddenly my heart wanted to sing. A familiar feeling rushed back with the quick steps on the deck. I seemed to see again the small village nestled by the sea in the afternoons welcoming ships back to the fishing port. I saw the fishing village women with sparkling eyes after long days of waiting from the sea.

In the futures of many generations to come, the sea will still be a vast part embracing my homeland; embracing the lives of those born from the sea. Just thinking about the sea, my breath is filled with a salty flavor...

Source: https://baogialai.com.vn/bien-cua-ngay-mai-post326541.html