The lingering taste of early winter morning

(Dong Nai) - This morning, I woke up earlier than usual. No alarm clock, no call, just a vague feeling urging me out of my warm bed. Stepping out to open the window, a cool breeze rushed in, seeping through my clothes, making me shiver slightly. The crisp morning air, the scent of dew in the wind, brought a sudden sense of relief. It turns out, winter has truly arrived.

The road in front of the house seemed to have donned a new coat. The once glossy black asphalt was now covered in a dull gray, and the lingering traces of night dew made the road look as if it were asleep. A gentle breeze blew, carrying a few yellow leaves that twirled and landed on the ground. The rustling of leaves, the sparse sounds of traffic—all blended together to create a gentle and slow melody of early winter.

In the distance, groups of students began arriving at school. Their colorful warm coats stood out against the chilly morning breeze. Their cheeks were flushed, and their breath turned into thin wisps of smoke. Some sat on the back of bicycles, snuggling against their fathers' backs, their tiny hands clutching their coats. Others held their mothers' hands, walking down the narrow alley, their short, hurried steps echoing with shivers from the cold. The scene was familiar yet strangely peaceful, a warmth that didn't come from the sun, but from human kindness, from the warmth of love.

As winter arrives, everyone seems to slow down and become gentler. The café at the end of the street has turned on its music, the soft guitar melody of a Trinh Cong Son song drifting gently through the thin mist. The street vendor smiles kindly as she pours another cup of hot tea for a customer. The steam rises, dissipating into the cold wind, leaving a delicate aroma. The old woman selling sticky rice still maintains her old habit, sitting beside her steaming pot of fragrant rice, the sound of her opening the lid a familiar, comforting call from memory. Amidst the early winter chill, these familiar images suddenly warm my heart.

Perhaps that's why I love winter. Not because of the beautiful sweaters or the hot morning coffee, but because it makes people slow down, appreciate the warmth around them. Winter has its own way of evoking memories that seemed to have been dormant: meals with parents, a steaming bowl of soup, or the crackling sound of burning wood on some bygone afternoon.

I remember, when I was a child in the countryside, whenever the cold wind blew, my mother would light the stove earlier. The small kitchen was shrouded in smoke, the firelight reflecting on the walls. My siblings and I would huddle together, waiting for the rice to boil so that my mother could pour us some warm rice water. That cloudy white liquid, with a little added sugar, was sweet and fragrant; even now, it's a flavor that no other dish can replace. Back then, winter stopped outside, and inside, there was only warmth and peace.

Growing up far from home, the city winters no longer smell of cooking smoke or the sound of burning wood, but the feeling of the cold wind sweeping in remains the same. Every morning, seeing everyone wrapped in scarves and coats, I suddenly feel a pang of sympathy – sympathy for those who go to work early, and sympathy for myself struggling amidst the hustle and bustle of life. The cold makes people withdraw, but it also makes hearts open up, allowing them to be moved by the smallest things.

Each season leaves its own mark, but winter is perhaps the most melancholic. In the quiet morning, when our breath still mingles with the cold mist, we suddenly feel small in this vast world . The cold doesn't just touch our skin, but seems to seep deep into our minds, gently awakening the quiet moments we've kept hidden amidst the hurried pace of life. Perhaps that's why winter always has a very human quality – cold on the outside, warm on the inside.

As winter arrives, people put on extra coats and scarves, and their hearts are filled with unspoken emotions. Amidst the first chill of the season, I smile softly. Yes, winter doesn't just bring cold; it also brings the most genuine feelings, the most ordinary stirrings of life. Sometimes, just a cold morning breeze is enough to make us nostalgic, enough to realize that we still know how to feel, how to love, how to remember.

I gently closed the window, allowing the cool breeze to linger in the small space. A new day had begun, the streets were bustling, but in my heart, the lingering taste of that early winter morning remained—gentle, crisp, and full of affection.

Ha Linh

Source: https://baodongnai.com.vn/van-hoa/202510/du-vi-sang-dau-dong-f531a83/