When the crape myrtle season returns

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When the crape myrtle season returns

12:10:18 - 23/4/2025

I'm over 35, no longer the schoolgirl in a white dress I once was, nor as dreamy as I was in my twenties. Yet, every time summer comes, walking down a street lined with blooming crape myrtle trees, my heart flutters gently, deeply, like an old habit, like memories suddenly returning.

I don't know exactly when the crape myrtle begins to bloom, I only know that around April and May, when the sun becomes more intense, the flowers turn a whole corner purple. As a child, I didn't really pay attention to crape myrtle flowers. To me back then, they were just flowers, blooming and fading, nothing special. Occasionally, walking along a tree-lined road, I would only see the purple covering the foliage and falling gently to the ground. But strangely, even though I didn't pay much attention, I still remember that purple very clearly, that soft, gentle color that subtly crept into my mind without me realizing it.

My connection with crape myrtle trees deepened during my high school years. My school was right next to a long, tree-lined road. And of course, there were rows of crape myrtle trees planted along both sides. Every morning on our way to school, my friends and I would often leave early, cycling leisurely along that road. Sometimes, the gentle breeze would make the clusters of flowers sway softly as if waving hello. Other times, a sudden downpour would send petals falling all over the road, staining the puddles purple. Those moments, though seemingly insignificant, left a lasting impression on me.

Time flies. It's been almost twenty years since I left that school. But whenever I meet old friends, memories of those days come flooding back. And strangely, almost everyone mentions the season of the crape myrtle blossoms. It's about the day we all took our graduation photos under the canopy of purple trees, about writing farewell messages to each other, repeating promises like "we'll never forget each other," about the hesitant gaze of a boy I secretly liked, looking at me then quickly turning away…

The purple blossoms that year carried with them so many first emotions—awkward, shy, yet incredibly pure. I don't remember exactly what he said to me, only that once he picked up a fallen branch of crape myrtle from the schoolyard and quietly placed it in my desk drawer without saying anything. I didn't react either, I just secretly kept the branch until it withered. Perhaps that was the first time I knew what it was like to like someone, to nervously wait for a glance, a look…

Now, having passed the infatuations of my school days and gone through the joys and sorrows of adulthood, I still often smile when I remember that crape myrtle season. Someone once asked me why I didn't like roses, orchids, or other more luxurious flowers? I just shook my head. To me, crape myrtle isn't pretentious or overly striking, but it's beautiful in a simple, familiar way, just like the memories of my youth that I always cherish.

Every time I visit my hometown, I stop by my old school and sit under the same crape myrtle tree. The tree has grown much taller, its branches and leaves lush, and its flowers are still as vibrant purple as ever. But everything around me has changed. The old classroom is gone, the stony schoolyard is gone. My friends from those years are now scattered. Some have started families, some live in different cities, and some I haven't been in touch with in a long time. The crape myrtle season has passed, but its memories never fade.

I think everyone has a flower they remember and cherish in their life. For me, the crape myrtle is the flower of memories, of childhood days, of handshakes never exchanged, of farewells never spoken aloud... It reminds me of a time gone by, of myself when I was innocent, naive, and full of hope.

Now, having passed the age of 35, even though I no longer pick flowers to press in my notebook or write in my diary about a "special person," I still find myself silently captivated when I see crape myrtle blossoms on the street. Not out of regret, but because of the peaceful feeling they bring. Amidst the hustle and bustle and pressures of life, sometimes just a fleeting glimpse of that purple hue is enough to ease my mind. And so, I smile softly, as if it were a familiar feeling… when the crape myrtle season returns.

An Nhien

Starting September 7, 2020, Binh Phuoc Newspaper online launched the "Simple Things" column.

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Source: https://baobinhphuoc.com.vn/news/19/171908/khi-mua-hoa-bang-lang-tro-lai