The cold wind has arrived.

Every morning, after cleaning the house and sweeping the small yard full of fallen yellow leaves and dried flower petals from the previous day, I always tear off the old calendar page. That's how the new day begins. First, I look at the words on the new calendar page to find out the day's information. What day is it, what date is it, is it hot or cold, what will the weather be like, will it rain or be sunny? It's not for any particular reason, just to know, but it's still fun, as if that's all I know about everything on earth, and I suddenly feel very at peace.

This morning marks the end of the three-day rain spell that the weather forecast predicted a few days ago. The clouds are thick and gray, obscuring the sun. Gusts of wind blow fiercely, swaying the coconut tree in front of the yard, its leaves rustling and swirling, filling the air with a lively sound. A very light rain falls, tiny raindrops, smaller than dust, falling on my hair, almost imperceptible. I suddenly remember the drizzling rains of Hanoi that I read about in the stories of Nhat Linh and Thach Lam. My city doesn't have the biting winds and drizzles like the one out there, but even a slight chill stirs the hearts of those living by the sea. I wonder if the rain and wind in Central Vietnam have subsided yet. I hear on the news that there's flooding in various places every day, and I feel sorry for the narrowest part of our country.

And suddenly I feel so much affection for my little city, which has been blessed by nature a little more. This season, the sea is rough, the waves are more violent, the sunrise is less brilliant, and the morning sky is full of gray clouds. The beach is therefore deserted in the morning, and beach lovers only stand on the shore, splashing in the waves. In the afternoon, those who like to stroll along the beach wear extra jackets and scarves to keep warm because the wind is quite strong this season. Now, standing before the sea, the offshore islands are just faintly visible. In the evening, the sea is a deep black, and there are no twinkling lights like stars from the squid fishing boats or those casting nets offshore. On days when the sea is rough, the boats are anchored at the docks, but fresh fish is still available in the markets thanks to the fishermen who go out to sea in their small, coracle-like boats. Now, if you buy a few fish at the market at a fairly high price, you wouldn't dare complain because, while fishermen earn their living, their love for their profession and their love for the sea is what drives them to go out to sea even in the raging storms.

This year, the coastal city has had less rain than in previous years, but after the rain stops, the cold wind returns. The cold in the coastal region seems a little more bearable, enough for housewives to rummage through their wardrobes and take out all sorts of sweaters they haven't worn in a long time. The sweaters worn by people in the coastal city are also thinner than those elsewhere. If someone from Nha Trang wears a sweater to Hanoi or Da Lat this season, they'll realize how delicate their sweater is and how the cold of their hometown only serves as an adornment. But every year, when the rainy season is over and the city's sunshine becomes a dry, honey-yellow hue, the blankets are brought out to dry in the sun before use. The sun isn't too harsh, but it's enough to warm the blankets and give them a fragrant, sun-kissed scent.

The arrival of the cold wind also signals that we are entering the final month of the year. We remind each other to wear an extra coat and scarf when going out in the morning to keep warm. The cold wind also stirs up mixed feelings in people's hearts, a mix of joy and sadness, as another year is about to pass.

But if there's nothing to rush about, the first thing to do in the day is still to tear off the old calendar page to start a new day full of energy!

LUU CAM VAN

Source: https://baokhanhhoa.vn/van-hoa/sang-tac/202411/gio-lanh-da-ve-ebf098f/