Glorious summer days

Late May and early June is Trong's most "dreamy" time of year. This year, his parents promised to take him back to his paternal grandparents' village during the summer break. His mother said it would give his 1.75-degree myopia eyes a rest, away from the blue light of phones and computers. His father didn't add any further instructions, just turned and smiled subtly, telling his mother that after the summer, he would surely grow up and become more independent. Two years ago, in the middle of summer, Trong also got to spend 10 days with his paternal grandparents, and he was so excited about it.

The car screeched to a halt in front of my grandparents' house. My father only had time for a quick lunch before driving straight back to the city. At 4 p.m., before the sun had even begun to set, I could already see the silhouettes of children and hear their small calls. Trong rushed out, his sandals still on, his mouth wide open in a big grin. The children, some carrying wicker baskets, others bamboo sticks, some wearing hats, others bareheaded, walked in a line towards the vast green rice fields, following the uneven path. Suddenly, the oldest child at the front jumped into the rice paddies, and the others followed. Without a word, they plunged into the mud, searching for crabs. Suddenly, one of them shouted, "A snake, guys!" Trong jumped back onto the bank, and the four or five children followed, breathless. The oldest one asked, "What kind of snake? Did you find one?" A timid voice among the children replied, "I grabbed something slippery and soft, I don't know if it was a snake or an eel, so I yelled to be sure." "You crazy fool! You scared us all! We jumped up, the crabs and fish heard and ran away... they lost their shoes!" They all burst into laughter, their clear, ringing laughter echoing across the field.

Tired of the scorching sun, the children rushed down to the river to swim. Two years prior, during his first long summer vacation, Trong had been taught to swim by his grandfather. Back in the city, he had also learned additional swimming skills from his school's physical education teacher, so he felt very confident in the water. The cool river water, with its refreshing splashes hitting his eyes and face, was incredibly invigorating. Trong swam to his heart's content until the sun completely set.

On a cool summer night, the wind from the fields rushed through the winding paths into the garden, caressing the heavily laden rose and custard apple trees. Grandpa called out, "Trong, get the mat from the corner of the house, I'll spread it out in the yard so we can gaze at the moon and stars." He turned the electric fan to the lowest setting to gently chase away the mosquitoes, then lay down outside, Trong and his cousin lay in the middle, Grandma sat right beside them. The two young men, roughly the same age, stretched out their arms and legs, listening to Grandpa tell stories about the stars. The dark night sky was adorned with countless twinkling stars, Grandpa's voice sometimes near, sometimes far, then seemed to... fade away into Trong's drowsiness. In his dream, the boy was... planning what he would do tomorrow and the day after during the bright summer days ahead.

Spring Flowers

Source: https://baonamdinh.vn/van-hoa-nghe-thuat/202506/nhung-ngay-he-ruc-ro-7d94117/