The scene of the ripening rice fields suddenly became a bridge connecting strangers, so the initial encounter felt warm and friendly when Mr. Xuan from Trung Dong (Duong No ward, Hue ) shared: “This season, my son and I are cultivating two acres of rice fields. The rice is ripe, we’ll harvest it at the beginning of May, and we’ll have enough rice to eat, but we hope the price will go up because the cost of fertilizer and pesticides is so high now.” The hardworking man smiled, a gentle smile typical of harvest season, yet still carrying the worries of a farmer.

How can farmers be completely at ease when, historically, crops depend not only on "water, fertilizer, labor, and seeds" but also on "the heavens"? Right next to Uncle Xuan's rice field, we saw several plots of ripening rice that were still green but flattened by the recent storm. Farming, as seasoned farmers say, always has localized crop failures within an overall bountiful harvest.

Uncle Xuan pointed to his newly painted two-story tiled house and invited us in. Since the construction of Pham Van Dong road connecting to National Highway 49A, transportation has become much more convenient for the people in this area, and many new houses have been built, making the landscape much more cheerful. "When transportation develops, people's lives improve, you know," Uncle Xuan said, inviting us to visit his house whenever we passed by, his words reflecting the joy of the people here. For farmers, a house is the clearest answer about the harvest, about life, both then and now.

Looking at the houses built along the road, I suddenly remembered the poem inscribed at Minh Lau - Minh Mang's tomb:

“The fields are peaceful on all four sides / The sky is bright in all nine directions / Gentle breezes blow everywhere / Every house is adorned with rosy hues” (Poem by King Minh Mạng, translated by Nguyễn Trọng Tạo).

On early summer mornings, we enjoyed our journeys in search of the city's golden hues. A long stretch of rice fields south of Hue formed a golden tapestry that extended all the way to the sea. Gazing at the golden color of each grain of rice, we could sense the brown of the earth and the blue of the water within.

These rice fields draw their water from the An Cuu River, an ancient river that was once silted up but later dredged and cleared during the reigns of Emperors Gia Long and Minh Mang. This has provided irrigation water and desalinated tens of thousands of acres of rice paddies, truly deserving the name "Beneficial to Agriculture." Over time, the river has remained full of water, supplying the fields. Deep within the ripening rice paddies, we encountered pumping stations and a system of canals and ditches distributing water everywhere. Amidst the golden hues of the ripening rice, we saw the green of the Perfume River and the An Cuu River. During a visit to my brother who works at the Su Lo Dong - Cau Long pumping station, I witnessed the torrent of fresh water flowing from the pipes into the ditches, reflecting on the immense contributions of tens of thousands of people who worked day and night on irrigation, saving a river and tens of thousands of acres of rice paddies. History is not only recorded in books but is also vividly reflected in the present.

This season, the city is vibrant with the golden hues of ripening rice, and along the streets, there are countless other shades of yellow: golden cassia, golden shower trees (the national flower of Thailand), and Japanese chrysanthemums, all displaying their golden blossoms in the ancient capital.

This summer, I've come to realize that the golden hue of rice stalks is also known by many other shades of yellow, such as the color of straw, the color of rice drying in the yard, or the color of sunlight on the roofs of village communal houses and ancient buildings. And I believe that each person will have their own unique shades of yellow, beautiful and sacred. Within that yellow lies the sun-tanned skin of the farmer, the color of the earth and water, the color of houses and buildings, the color of flowers and leaves in the city... Colors that nourish the stirrings of the soul.

Xuan An

Source: https://huengaynay.vn/doi-song/sac-vang-trong-pho-165864.html