That place is a distant land, half a world away from Hue . But perhaps the geographical distance no longer exists when one touches the familiar green images of home.
"Here, the houses all have large gardens. People usually plant grass and lots of roses," you shared.
But perhaps that cool, tranquil green space couldn't fill the homesickness of those living far away. So you went to the trouble of "bringing" along the familiar garden of your hometown.
Busy with work and taking care of the kids, it's been a long time since I've been back to Hue to visit home, and I miss it so much. I miss my mother's hands, stained with mud. I miss the garden where I woke up each morning, smelling the faint fragrance of guava and jackfruit. The earthy scent of the soil permeated the air with dew. I even miss the bowl of "shrimp whiskers soup with gourd intestines" that became a part of my childhood lessons... My friend whispered, in each text message, as she confided about the vegetable garden that resembled her hometown.
Your heartfelt words remind me of the fruit-filled countryside of my childhood.
There, January begins with rows of young cabbages growing rapidly. Tiny gourd seedlings, just planted by my mother, quickly sprout and flourish with plump, elephant-ear-sized leaves. Flower buds, just beginning to bloom, bear fruit in an instant, growing tall and long enough to touch the ground. There, May burns golden on the sun-tanned skin of pumpkins, each fruit as large as a small basket. Then autumn arrives with a fleeting chill, tinging the hazy, dreamy rows of cabbages, their youthful days long gone.
Then, before we knew it, we had grown up, along with the pumpkins and gourds. There, the years were counted by the seasons of fruit, by the drops of sweat, by the mother's shoulders, her back bent, and the pumpkins and gourds growing...
That expanse of homeland holds the hardships of storms and the dreams of youth, left behind through the seasons of flowers. It is homeland, imprinted in the form of children, hidden in memory, remembered when far away, remembered to grow into adulthood…
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