Hear frogs croaking from mid-sky

It turns out that the height of “halfway up the sky” depends on each person’s thinking. My grandmother said that the bamboo top was already half way up the sky, but I was sitting on the balcony of the 17th floor, about 50 meters above the ground, so it was no longer half way up the sky. It had to be right up in the sky. The accuracy of folk sayings in many ways is not as necessary as that of professionals, but it has accuracy in the way of expression.

The autumn air was permeating the space. The rain was cool. Sitting on the balcony, looking out, I could only see the red lights of the dike, and the river was unmarked. It was so deep that I couldn’t make out anything. The sound of frogs croaking and insects chirping in the cool, rainy night was also very evocative. It had been a long time since I had heard frogs croaking. There were no vehicles, so the croaking was very clear. Were they calling for a mate or were they excited to catch the cool drops of water after hot days? Just imagine that on this side, there was a frog opening its mouth to welcome the rain and then calling, and just a few seconds later, on the other side, another frog responded. “I hear the sound of frogs in my ear,” but I wasn’t startled by any boat calls. I was actively waiting to hear the passionate sound, so happy and excited, so why would I be startled? I heard that people were going to build a complex on this empty land. Those frogs and insects can croak as long as they can, but soon this place will become an urban area, there will be no place for them.

I vaguely remember the time in Soc Son. It was raining like a flood. My pond suddenly overflowed. When the rain stopped, I opened the door and stepped out into the yard and heard a chorus of frogs and insects around the house. During the day, where did they hide? After the rain, they came out as if this dark night, this land was their own territory.

I remember in 1965 I dug two trap holes in the tea garden. It was common to hear that it had to be done, but no one jumped into them when American planes attacked Hai Duong and Hanoi, flying very low over my hometown. In 1969, I even made a tunnel that took a lot of effort. After a few rains, while picking tea, I saw several trap holes with water half-full, murky. I told my mother, and it turned out that she knew that there were frogs falling into each hole. I caught five of them, two of which were big. My mother said the two big ones were female frogs, the three small ones were male frogs. She advised me to release them because my family did not eat frog meat. I felt sorry, but I heard my mother say: "Release them. March is the season for frogs to spawn. You can sell them for a few cents, but why sell them?" In addition, my mother did not eat catfish, eels, snakehead fish, buffalo meat, so my two brothers did not eat them like her. Growing up, I found it quite annoying to live in a collective for decades.

Now from mid-sky I hear the frogs croaking again. I remember the distant days. Looking down the street I see no cars still running. It’s already midnight. Everyone seems to be fast asleep. I only hear the frogs chirping in the chorus of insects. A drop of rain falls on my face. The moon is fading. It’s just past the full moon of the seventh lunar month. If I were still alive, seeing me sitting around like this without sleeping, my mother would probably say, “Go to sleep, staying up all night is bad for you.” But today is different. Frogs and toads, keep croaking to your heart’s content. It’s already autumn.

Source: https://daidoanket.vn/nghe-tieng-ech-keu-tu-lung-chung-gioi-10289280.html