[E-Magazine]: Winter comes, calling love back

In the silence of a winter day, the lyrics of musician Phu Quang suddenly resounded with sadness: "It seems like someone passes by the door, the northeast wind makes my heart ache. The yellow autumn leaves have fallen, as if they have also left me"... Then, my heart suddenly sank, echoing with the feelings of distant nostalgia of a winter long ago.

The yellow leaves gently fall to say goodbye to autumn and each cold wind calls for winter to come. Winter flowers have crept into every small street. Just a little reason, all the love of the old season returns.

People say that early winter is the most beautiful time. In the cold of the first season, clusters of milk flowers quietly spread their fragrance, blending into a strong aroma that makes our hearts calm down. Outside, we can see the pink silhouettes in colorful scarves. Then, winter slowly covers the space, making us swoon in the peacefulness and sweetness.

Winter comes as if touching a memory that has been covered with the dust of time. The street corners that I once passed by, the warm aroma of coffee mixed with the melodious music, seem to call back the sounds of the past. There, there was a person who once stood quietly waiting for me. That distant memory still lingers with sweet aftertaste. Then, the heart softly plays a sad and poignant melody.

The winter sun is not strong enough to wake up the rows of trees sleeping in the thin mist. Not enough to warm the hands or faces of people on the street, but enough to make us realize the warmth from small, fragile things. I don’t know why, but I like the feeling of the changing seasons so much. It gives us so many sudden startles, awakens in us so many memories and feelings. A feeling that is hard to name.

Winter comes, calling love back with the rustling sound of falling leaves, calling the late blooming milk flower clusters, calling the pure white color of daisies. Calling the yellow color of wild sunflowers that brighten the silvery sky mixed with a bit of desolation. Mixed in with the sound of the monsoon is the clear cry of a street vendor, the giggles of a young couple who haven't seen each other for a long time... Just those simple sounds are enough to warm up the cold winter days.

In the cold of the changing seasons, the aroma of roasted corn, potatoes or chestnuts... also becomes extremely attractive. That familiar flavor seems to touch the rustic memories of the past. At every street corner, red-hot charcoal stoves, snacks are displayed to stimulate the appetite. A familiar aroma spreads, corn begins to turn golden brown, sweet potatoes are dotted with red coals, chestnuts gently move... The feeling of sitting and waiting for the shop owner to fan the stove, then warming your hands over the fire... is hard to describe. Every time you get to sip and inhale that simple, rustic gift, full of the taste of the countryside, it is strangely interesting.

In the silence of a winter day, the lyrics of musician Phu Quang suddenly resounded with sadness: “It seems like someone passes by the door, the northeast wind is heartbreaking. The yellow autumn leaves have fallen, as if they have also left me”... Then, my heart suddenly sank, echoing with the feelings of distant nostalgia of a winter long ago. The lyrics seemed to lure me back to the past, a mixture of reality and illusion. Things that seemed to be right in front of me, appearing nearby, but turned out to be so far away that I could never reach them.

Some people say winter is the season of nostalgia, the season of love, of waiting, of longing... Perhaps, the bitter cold has awakened the desire to be warmed, to be close to each other in the long winter days that seemed to have fallen asleep. The dryness of the changing seasons is not from the sun, nor from the wind, but from the human heart, from the clumsy new love...

In the endless memory, the nostalgia is suddenly called by name. Missing a hand that warmed another hand. Missing the last leaf lingering on the branch. And missing someone's warm voice that makes my heart ache...

When winter comes, I remember my mother's figure rushing around in the afternoon market. I remember the times when I could lean into my mother's arms, bury myself in the fragrant scent of rice. I remember the smoke from the kitchen every time the afternoon falls. My mother told me, "It's cold, you must wear enough warm clothes, don't go bareheaded or barefoot, okay?" But the poor children of the past quickly forgot their mother's words, still running, playing, catching fish, picking sweet potatoes... in the middle of winter, leaving their hands and feet chapped, their lips bleeding, not knowing the cold or the pain. The children's crisp laughter filled the whole space, warming the whole winter of that year.

Winter is slowly spreading across the space. Winter is coming, reminding us to welcome love with sunny days!

Content: Ha Dan

Graphics: Mai Huyen

Source: https://baothanhhoa.vn/e-magazine-dong-ve-goi-yeu-thuong-vong-lai-267869.htm