Summer Afternoon

In the afternoon, in the small moss-covered yard, my father brought out a bamboo bed and placed it under the shade of a custard apple tree. As soon as the bed was placed down, I saw my father's hands quickly making a pot of lotus tea, then arranging a jumble of bamboo strips, bamboo strips, and strings to weave baskets.

The children stood around, hoping to see if there was any leftover bamboo to ask their father to make a paper kite frame. In the middle of the yard, mother was busy with a pile of peanuts, the shells crunching in the sun, each one dry and curled. The afternoon sun gradually dropped its golden threads, filled with memories of a peaceful summer.

I have the feeling that summer afternoons always pass more slowly than usual. The summer sun is slowly setting, quietly and lazily, making the children sitting in the house impatient. They want the sun to set completely so they can run out to the fields and the dikes to play soccer or fly kites. My mood is always eager, waiting for a friendly call from my friends.

For me and my childhood friends, those summer afternoons were truly heavenly summer afternoons. The time when the internet and smartphones were not yet popular, so no one knew about technology, so the children just made friends with nature and trees.

I can’t count how many times my bare feet have leisurely strolled on the smooth grassy embankments, nor the number of times I’ve crossed the fields bare of stubble after the harvest. My feet were covered in mud, but a smile was always on my lips.

Childhood games like kite flying, flower planting, shuttlecock kicking, and marbles were always exciting games that we played every afternoon. Kind-hearted children put their dreams into paper kites, with the aspiration that when they grow up, they will fly far away.

Summer afternoons in the countryside are sometimes noisy with the sound of cicadas chirping outside the trees, the sound of dogs barking loudly, and the sound of chickens clucking to call their chicks. There are days when I lie down and still can't sleep because of those noises. Looking out the window, I see my mother bending over to scoop buckets of water to water the plants.

At those times, I kept hoping for a rain to fall, so that my mother would have less trouble, and the trees would be green again and produce delicious fruits. Sometimes, the noise would come from the old dishwashing pot of the ice cream exchanger. Scraps, basins, and broken plastic sandals were precious treasures to exchange for cool ice cream.

Every time I remember, sitting leisurely on the porch, holding a cool ice cream stick, I feel my childhood sweet with the loving summer afternoons...

I remember the summer afternoons when the electricity went out. My mother urged my sister and I to take a bath early so we could have dinner at night. Back when the well was still deep, I was so tired from bending my back to scoop up a bucket of water. Pouring the bucket of water on my body felt so cool and I felt a wave of emotions running through me.

Sometimes, I would bring my clothes to the village well to wash, wash my hair, and chat with everyone. Those years, even if I wanted to go back even once in my life, I would never be able to. The well was filled in a long time ago, replaced by tap water and well water pumped directly into the tank.

I remember the times I sat eating under the flickering oil lamp, sweat dripping down my bare back, wishing the summer afternoon would pass quickly...

After many years of growing up and thinking, I realized that summer afternoons make my heart strangely excited and nostalgic. A place where love and simple peace permeate the souls of those far from home.

No matter where you are, urban or rural, summer afternoons for me and for you have become valuable moments of reunion and gathering together.

Source: https://baophuyen.vn/van-nghe/202506/chieu-mua-ha-25b0379/