A field in childhood memories. Illustration photo: D.KC
In our eyes as children, the rice fields back then were not just the place where our parents toiled under the sun and rain, but a vast universe, a wondrous world unfolding before us. There, barefoot and muddy, we could freely frolic, our laughter ringing like bells in the boundless expanse. We let our souls soar with kites soaring in the wind over the rice paddies, enthusiastically chasing mischievous grasshoppers and crickets. Sometimes, we would simply lie on the lush green grass, gazing at the fluffy white clouds drifting by, conjuring up countless whimsical shapes in our innocent imaginations.
The innocent laughter, the children's games, the tiny footsteps chasing each other on the embankment... all have been etched into my soul like slow-motion film, never to fade. The gentle rice fields taught us to cherish each pristine grain, to appreciate the value of the sweat shed in the fields, and above all, to feel a deep, inseparable connection with nature and the land that nourished us.
Now, life has taken me far away from those beloved fields, but whenever I unexpectedly catch a glimpse of green rice paddies in pictures, or catch a glimpse of vast fields along the road, a deep longing wells up in my heart. It's not just a longing for a peaceful, beautiful landscape, but also for the innocent, carefree days of my childhood, for the genuine friends, and the tender memories that nurtured and shaped my soul as I grew up.
The fields and my childhood will forever be an inseparable part of my heart. They are the sweet melody of the countryside, gently echoing whenever I close my eyes, whenever I remember my homeland, the peaceful days gone by. Oh, fields, my childhood... forever vibrant in my memory.
Hua Xia
Source: https://baocamau.vn/canh-dong-oi-tuoi-tho-toi--a99302.html











