Just a few days ago, the water hyacinths were blooming with vibrant red flowers. These past few days, with the cool, rainy weather, the leaves have turned a brilliant green. A pristine, original green color that made me want to rush over to visit. I quickly snapped up a bunch of photos for social media. But the green color is real, and the air purification and stress reduction are real.
The plot of land next to my house seems to have been cursed for almost two decades, remaining abandoned. Where humans haven't yet set foot, nature always has a plan. The elephant ear plant is actually Plan B. If it hadn't been cut down, or if a storm hadn't blown it over, instead of elephant ear, my house would have been sheltered by a whole forest of mangrove trees. Mangrove trees also grow very quickly; in just one year they can reach the level of my third-floor balcony, attracting sparrows to chirp all season. The fruit is a vibrant orange-red amidst the heart-shaped leaves. It's truly a fast-growing, fast-living plant, perfectly embodying the urgent need to rescue the urban atmosphere.
There was once a tree that escaped the knives of some neighbors and grew to that height. But its base was close to the wall, and its roots lacked anchor, so a swift tornado toppled it. The landowner had to buy bricks to rebuild the wall, and since then, the young bamboo shoots were mercilessly slaughtered as soon as they reached eye level. But the elephant ear plant army took its place spectacularly. The land was created by filling in a pond, meaning the soil had no nutrients. But perhaps just by absorbing a little moisture lingering from deep within the earth, the elephant ear plants thrived.
My mother occasionally trimmed the branches and leaves that were getting in the way. Another reason she gave was to prevent the elephant ear plants from shading the vegetables she grew below. And a few times she asked for leaves to wrap her rice cakes.
My mother always favored vegetables and herbs – that is, plants with practical uses. But when it comes to oxygen production, I believe vegetables can't compete with elephant ear plants. I'm sure my sudden preference for elephant ear plants stems partly from this fundamental function. My survival instinct tells me that those large leaves, like those of the elephant ear plant, are desperately needed for the lungs of urban dwellers. My alley has become congested lately. And every afternoon, from my third-floor balcony, I can smell the exhaust fumes rising… Deep down, I understand that the beauty of nature that we perceive often signals the harmony necessary for life to flourish.
In a different, more overgrown environment, I certainly wouldn't have noticed the elephant ear plants so much. But here, in this barren, empty plot of land, littered with construction waste and nestled among rows of subdivided houses, the elephant ear plants appear like mysterious knights, somehow moving to join forces near my house. Their "supernatural" appearance is something to be surprised about. But no. Because nature is always wondrous, and people subconsciously take it for granted.
My mother would occasionally cook a pot of soup from the few wild greens she gathered from her "garden" (although the land wasn't ours, she just called it that out of habit), and she would be very proud of it. She would urge her children and grandchildren to eat it all because it was clean, organically grown.
I just hope people will continue to leave that land alone. Because if it's covered in concrete again, Mother Nature – though still miraculous – won't be able to do anything to connect with her carefree, even thoughtless, children like us.
Source: https://thanhnien.vn/nhan-dam-rung-cuc-phuong-ben-nha-185250705191401349.htm
Comment (0)