Close your eyes and wait for summer.

Actually, I don't really like spring in the North. Although the old saying goes, "Spring rain is more precious than gold," and spring is the season when a hundred flowers bloom and thousands of trees change their leaves, the spring weather makes people in the North both laugh and cry. Just this past March alone, there was the usual downpour, then the scorching heat, and then the persistent dampness. Anyone living in the North fears the leaky roofs and the risk of tripping if you're not careful. Plus, clothes smell musty from the dampness that doesn't dry properly. The worst part is at night; it's too hot under the blankets, but too cold to kick them off. The nightlight is too bright, but if you turn it off, you hear swarms of mosquitoes buzzing everywhere.

Therefore, whenever the sun sets in April, I look forward to summer. For some reason, I love the stifling heat of summer, the way it makes you sweat. And for some reason, I love the beauty of the long days and short nights of summer. Because I'm so afraid of the night, afraid of those endless, silent, deserted nights, without a single breath. But summer is different; summer isn't silent. In the city, there are cicadas chirping; in the countryside, there are worms and crickets scurrying. Before you've even had enough sleep, the heat rushes in, and the birds hop and chirp, waking you up. And then there's the sunshine, the glorious and radiant beauty that people describe in paradise—surely it's similar to summer in the North, where everything is golden like diamonds scattered on the ground.

***

A friend of mine, who absolutely hates summer, is incredibly lazy and prefers winter to curl up in thick duvets, staying up all night reading stacks of literature. He once asked me: "Autumn is beautiful, winter is dry, spring is magnificent, why do you like summer so intensely hot?"

I think liking a season is like having a feeling tied to memories and personality. For example, when I think of spring, I only think of those long nights staying up until one or two in the morning watching movies, waiting for Tet (Lunar New Year) to pass, and chatting with friends before going back to school. Or when winter arrives, my mind is filled with endless tests and final exams, and a biting cold that leaves my body sluggish.

Therefore, I've always felt that summer suits me. Summer is my true self: hot-tempered, hurried, passionate, and crazy. I love to exercise, to throw myself into the park's running track in the early morning, letting the salty sweat pour down my face. I also love to throw myself from a rocky outcrop, plunging into the cool seawater, diving into the deep ocean, watching tiny fish frolic, and the sticky seaweed drifting lazily by.

Summer is also associated with beautiful memories from my childhood. Those were the times when school chairs no longer bound me. I could run around outside with my friends in cool, comfortable clothes. We would eat ice cream, tease the neighbors' dogs and cats, and our parents would let us attend fun extracurricular activities.

I remember those summers, going to swimming lessons in the mornings and making friends my age. At noon, I'd sneak out to climb trees and pick ripe fish roe, sucking on it enthusiastically. In the evenings, I'd go to children's storytelling classes, watching Barbie cartoons while creating stories about everything under the sun, listening to each other, laughing together, and writing about a future in some magical land.

Perhaps that's why, for me, summer is always beautiful, endless, and a time to start new passions and ideas. Even as I grew up, when the cicadas began to sing, my whole body seemed to be infused with a surge of vibrant energy. Subconsciously, I would begin to learn something new, or travel to a new place.

***

When I was 20, I used to think that maybe in six or seven years, after I'd left school and entered the workforce, I'd be calmer, and perhaps I wouldn't like summer anymore. At that time, I felt very sad and thought to myself, "That would be so depressing, where would my sunshine go?"...

How fortunate I am that even today, as my desk calendar turns to April, my fingers still tremble, burning with the heat of summer. My ears eagerly await the sound of cicadas heralding summer, piercing through the biting cold wind, bringing the hot breath of summer to me.

For some reason, images of the beach, the bobbing boats, and the bobbing laughter flashed before my eyes. At that moment, another person, full of excitement and enthusiasm, whispered to me: "This summer, we're going to conquer something new, aren't we?"

Anh Nhi

Source: https://baophapluat.vn/nham-mat-cho-mua-he-post545843.html