My house doesn't have as many coconuts as other houses in the village. On the sand cave behind the house, grandfather only planted two coconut trees, one fire coconut tree and one green coconut tree. The rest of the sand cave, bamboo and bushes grow freely.
I don't know if it's because of the soil or not, but my two coconut trees and the coconut trees in the village all have big skulls, which room has the wrong fruit dangling. These summer days are coconut days in the best season. The coconut rice is not too hard and the coconut water is just sweet enough, not too sour or too pale. Usually fire coconut is more juicy than green coconut. But for my family at that time, every coconut was precious because it took 12 months for a new coconut tree to give a bunch of fruit.
Having to carefully twist and braid dozens of dried banana leaves, my father made a nice brooch. Carefully testing the strength, belted the sharp ax, my father quickly twisted the jockey around his feet, quickly climbing up the towering coconut tree.
Below us, we craned our necks to look dizzy. I only saw three times when I was chopping coconut leaves, sometimes chopping coconuts. He dropped each item on the ground and at the end of that hard climb, the clusters of coconuts when ripe were picked. Coconut leaves are three strips, crisscrossed beautifully to roof a hut of melon soup. The coconut mo is firm, soaked in water, stripped into thin strands to hang each string of cigarettes. And of course, the most juicy coconuts are our brothers' portion.
Early season coconut with glossy green shell, fresh stalks. Coconut water is slightly cloudy, sweet, sometimes mixed with a slight sour taste. Coconut rice is not too hard, just scrape lightly with a spoon like eating jelly. Therefore, my brother and I ate a lot, but I was the only one who was a glutton, so I was given two fruits.
In my village, coconuts are rarely sold whole or in shell. Most people trim, use a sharp machete to peel off the outer shell, leaving only the coconut skull and thin coconut stalk like a flower above. The coconuts are peeled clean, when brought to the market, they will lie with the fresh watermelons with a layer of chalk.
Now that my father is very old, his health is not enough to be able to quickly pick coconuts anymore. Even the banana leaf jigsaw has gone into the past when the tool for climbing coconuts is both safe and convenient. But every summer when I visit the village, I often see a bunch of well-roasted coconuts with fresh stalks like flowers still present in the corner of the market. Turns out, one way or another, the beautiful memories of the coconut season in me are still present. Just to suddenly see the familiar image of coconuts, the whole childhood sky comes to life. And so that in front of my eyes, the image of my father quickly carrying a pram on his feet to climb up and pick up coconuts, the coconut trees planted firmly by my grandfather cheered happily under the blue summer sky.
