The color of my homeland

In our memories, almost everyone has a longing for a homeland full of sunshine, wind, and fragrant colors.

Those were the hot summer afternoons, immersed in the fragrant rice paddies, watching the farmers in their conical hats diligently working, their hands clutching large bundles of golden rice stalks that filled their carts. Joy shone in the eyes of the women as they occasionally exchanged playful banter, seemingly easing the sweat from the heat and the hard work, leaving only smiles and enthusiastic spirits for the harvest season. While the adults worked, the children frolicked by the river, disturbing the peaceful tranquility of the village.