The winds of change

Those mornings, the whole island was quiet, only the wind howled, telling stories about the vast ocean out there, about sails sailing against the wind. The sunset was cloudy, the sunset glowed red, the kite filled with wind was lifted up to the sky by a child on the island with hasty steps and the crisp laughter echoed.

I stood in the corner of the apartment building in the city named after Uncle Ho, looking up at the sky dyed red by flags fluttering in the April wind.

I joined the parade crowd, listening to the wind blowing from Bach Dang Wharf telling the story of history. The smell of the city wind on an early summer day was not enough to dispel the heat, but it was enough to make people feel excited and proud of a fiery 50-year journey.

I sat with friends at a coffee shop in Tam Ky on a May morning, listening to the wind rustling the yellow rose petals left over from the end of the season rolling on the sidewalk, listening to so many worries. About the future, about the upcoming journey, about names that will soon only remain in memory. The taste of the cup of coffee suddenly became more bitter than usual, because it was tinged with anxiety and regret.

The change comes so quickly that it sometimes takes us by surprise. Like a sunny afternoon when suddenly there is a breeze carrying the smell of moisture, then comes the first rain of summer.

People rush in their own unique ways, some just turn on their car's windshield wipers, some stop their motorbikes and put on raincoats, some open their umbrellas to block the rain, some quickly pull over to an awning to wait for the rain to pass, some calmly sit in a corner of a balcony with a green canopy looking out at the rushing crowd...

Every change - like the rain, is always a whirlwind of surprises and confusion. When the wind swirls a leaf, it is a sign of a new beginning. Just like when I hear the wind pulling the storm, I know spring is turning to summer so I can go out and see the fish happy in the water.

Like Huu Thinh, when he hears the scent of guava in the cold wind, he knows autumn has come, like Hanoians, when they hear the dry, cold wind rustling, they know to take out last year's winter clothes to wear.

I call them the winds of change. They bring with them so many changes, and also so many gifts. Like the clear sky and earth after a summer rain, like the fragrant scent of young rice in the August wind, or the warm fire in the winter.

Life also contains winds, it moves in its own unique vortexes, always changing, but hidden deep within those vortexes are unexpected gifts, just need to grasp and enjoy.

Like one afternoon I walked barefoot in the field, tilted my head back to let the wind blow my messy hair, smelled the sweet scent of lotus flowers in the wind, reached out to pick the first pink lotus flower of the season - a gift of summer, of the wind, and of life's changing cycles...

Source: https://baoquangnam.vn/nhung-ngon-gio-chuyen-mua-3154514.html