So when she called me, her voice urgent, "Let's go to the beach, let's go right now, we can't delay another second!", I immediately understood that the very essence, the "essence" of the sea, the "essence" of shrimp paste, had awakened within her. My usually calm and composed sister was now as hurried as a child, and she candidly and openly declared, "I want to rush into the sea and frolic to my heart's content, to enjoy the cool seawater, the free gift of refreshment that nature has given to the people of Hue ."

At four o'clock in the afternoon, the sun was still blazing. The sun poured scorching rays down on the road. As we got closer to the sea, the wind grew stronger and the oppressive heat gradually lessened. The road to "Thuan An Gate"—as the people of Hue used to call it—is now wide and comfortable. It's no longer a single road to Thuan An as it used to be. We followed Pham Van Dong road onto National Highway 49 towards the sea, which was much faster. My sister excitedly said, "Hue is developing so fast and beautifully! It's changing every year; anyone who hasn't been back for a few years will feel left behind!"

My hometown has changed a lot, but the sea remains the same forever. The vast afternoon breezes greeted us with gentleness and tranquility. Here is Thuan An Beach. The casuarina trees rustled in the wind, their laughter carried away by the breeze, two kites soared in the sky, and a group of children played, their innocent, clear laughter echoing. The sand was soft underfoot. My sister pointed to the sandbag embankment at the water's edge, which from afar looked like a natural rock formation, her voice lowering: "Luckily, this sandbag embankment protects the coastline, otherwise, the sea would surely have encroached deep into the shore." I looked at the embankment, its hard plastic coating covered in green moss, remembering the great floods, and silently thanked those who participated in building this project. How can one measure the money, sweat, and effort of people from the past to the present in protecting the sea, which is also protecting human lives? A gently sloping sandy shoreline stretched along the embankment; the sand spoke for itself, but I understood that without the embankment, this stretch of shoreline would probably be the sea by now.

The sun was setting in the west, but its last rays still shone with a brilliant golden hue. Children slid along the smooth embankment and plunged into the sea. Beachgoers also took advantage of the opportunity to capture beautiful photos of Thuan An at the end of the day. In the distance, fishing boats were returning to shore, their shapes gradually becoming clearer until I saw the fisherman standing at the bow of his boat, his body as dark as bronze in the setting sun, simple yet echoing a grand epic about humanity and the sea.

Before the peak of the beach season, a friend working in tourism shared: "Last year's major floods caused quite a lot of damage to infrastructure, but what can we do? We have to reinvest. The people of Thuan An are ready for the new beach season, and we hope everyone prospers. When the locals prosper, those in the tourism industry will also prosper."

A new sea season of 2026 has begun. And I know that it is a continuation of the journey of millennia past, where humanity has relied on the sea and the sea has always protected humanity. She looked at me, her voice softening: “I’ve just been embraced by my homeland, cool and gentle, enough energy for the whole summer…”

Xuan An

Source: https://huengaynay.vn/van-hoa-nghe-thuat/mua-bien-moi-165171.html