[E-magazine]: The Color of Memory

Those flowers, those vibrant red blossoms against the clear blue sky, seem to embrace childhood and the unforgettable days of a beautiful era.

Against the vast blue sky, clusters of flamboyant flowers proudly stretch upwards, their vibrant red color drawing me back to days gone by. A place filled with innocent, clear laughter, the sound of teachers scolding students for not studying... And a place where paths held back the footsteps of countless people.

The brighter the sun shines, the more the flame tree blossoms. Though not intensely fragrant or alluring, the flame tree possesses a powerful presence. Flame tree flowers don't bloom individually but in clusters, dyeing a corner of the sky red. Silently, the flame tree offers the world its most vibrant blossoms. The color of the flame tree's flowers is like a flame igniting faith and dreams through generations of students.

It's unclear when exactly, but this flower, fragranceless yet possessing a vibrant color, has held within its heart the pure memories of generations of students. And so, even as time passes, the mere sight of falling petals stirs our souls, carried away by the gentle breeze. Though our school days are long gone, for some reason, the arrival of the flamboyant tree blossoms evokes a strange longing in our hearts! We suddenly pause, finding ourselves bathed in the brilliant red of the flamboyant trees lining the roadside. Our souls are suddenly lost in a sea of ​​nostalgic memories.

The old flame trees in the corner of the old schoolyard, with their clusters of fiery blossoms, suddenly appeared before my eyes. Each tree trunk carried countless memories and nostalgia for a time of youthful innocence for generations of students. Here were hastily carved names, there were cherished memories, perhaps the class name, the school name... but all carried a sense of longing. Perhaps, in each of our memories, the 12th grade remains the most special year, easily stirring our emotions whenever we think about it.

On the old brick steps, vibrant red phoenix flower petals had fallen everywhere. I don't know if this year's phoenix flowers are any different from previous years, but everyone tiptoed cautiously whenever they had to walk past. I suddenly feared stepping on the petals, as if I feared stepping on the sweet memories of days gone by.

During every break, we girls would huddle together, lost in thought, searching for the most beautiful phoenix flower petals to press into our autograph books, pouring all our passion and burning enthusiasm into our pages. I loved picking individual petals and pressing them into pretty little butterflies, the two curved stamens becoming cute antennae. Then, as time passed, I would unexpectedly come across those butterflies pressed from those phoenix flower petals, now dark brown on the yellowed pages, and the innocent, naive emotions of our school days would awaken within me.

During exam preparation days, those mischievous students suddenly became unusually gentle. They stopped arguing and teasing, becoming quieter and more reserved. They felt more grown-up, more mature, and more caring towards each other. They asked each other about their studies, shared stories about exams, and talked about their dreams and plans for their future at university. They chatted about all sorts of things, discussing their own aspirations... The chatter continued endlessly.

My heart suddenly swells with memories of those afternoons when we strolled together on a path overflowing with red blossoms. Many seasons of flowers passed, yet we never spoke words of love to each other, simply remaining silently by each other's side. We studied together, diligently preparing for exams during the final days, and together we outlined our beautiful aspirations for the future. The shyness, the timidity, the dreams, the hesitant moments of those days were so innocent and endearing that anyone would long to experience them again.

Then the day of true farewell finally arrived. We cried and laughed together, clinging to each other, our feelings so strong we couldn't find the words to say. After so many years of studying together, even times when we intensely disliked each other, now we couldn't bear to part!

The old flame trees in the yard, once ablaze with color, now sway gently in the breeze, as if bidding farewell to the students who have been with them for so many years.

It's unclear when exactly, but this flower has become a symbol of school days. Silently, the flamboyant tree has witnessed the bittersweet memories of countless generations of students. The day the flamboyant tree blossoms against the deep blue sky is also the time when students are diligently preparing for exams. They exchange farewell messages, their eyes filled with longing under the wistful sky, amidst hastily pressed blossoms. Only when parting ways do the students reveal their innermost feelings, the things they dared not say... We walked hand in hand through those exam seasons! And in the end, each of us carries a void in our hearts that can never be filled.

The season of flamboyant blossoms captivates us, prompting us to rediscover old memories. It's a time to rummage through the pages of our diaries, searching for familiar handwriting. It's a time for aimless wandering on windy afternoons. But then, even those vibrant red blossoms aren't enough to hold onto summer.

The season of the flamboyant tree blossoms – a season of dazzling flowers that illuminate a corner of the sky, a season of passion, longing, and lingering regrets. The vibrant red of these flowers, against the clear blue sky, seems to embrace all of childhood, memories, and unforgettable days of a beautiful era.

Within each of us, there is no one who doesn't carry memories of our school days with its flame-red flame trees in the summer. Each time the flame trees bloom, our hearts are filled with nostalgia and longing for the carefree days of our school life...

And when the dazzling summer sun shines down, gazing at the clusters of vibrant red flame trees adorning every corner of the sky, our hearts are filled with nostalgia and longing. Summer memories remain as gentle as the color of the flame tree blossoms before the pristine rays of each morning sun.

Content: Ha Dan

Photo: Internet source

Graphics: Mai Huyen

Source: https://baothanhhoa.vn/e-magazin-mau-cua-nho-250972.htm