January in the mountain town

January arrives in Son La without fanfare. White mist blankets the winding mountain roads, obscuring the stilt houses nestled beside fields of harvested corn. A chill seeps through the leaves, lingering on the shoulders of those heading to work early. The atmosphere is so quiet that you can clearly hear the gentle breeze rustling through the forest, the sound of water flowing somewhere in the valley below, and the crowing of roosters from distant villages.

January in the mountain town of Son La .

January in the mountainous region doesn't urge people to rush. The fields haven't yet entered the new planting season, the land is still resting after a long year of hard work. People also allow themselves a rare moment of quiet. Stepping out of their homes, they are more relaxed, their eyes seeming to hold more thoughts. The old year has receded, the new year has just begun, but no one wants to rush too much.

On the roads leading into the village, the faint footprints of those going to the New Year's market are imprinted on the damp earth. The January market is not as crowded as the days leading up to the Lunar New Year, nor as bustling as the tourist season. Sellers and buyers greet each other with slow, gentle words and soft smiles. Bundles of wild vegetables still damp with dew, bunches of newly sprouted bamboo shoots, and a few pieces of brocade fabric are displayed as a promise of a new year. The market is held more for meeting people than for buying and selling.

January is also the time of glowing hearths. In the stilt house, besides providing warmth, the hearth retains the familiar rhythm of life after the bustling New Year's celebrations. Smoke from the hearth mingles with the aroma of roasted corn and forest wood, spreading across the small courtyard in front of the house. The elderly sit by the hearth, recounting old stories, tales of past farming seasons. Children listen, their eyes clear and innocent, unburdened by the worries of the new year except for school.

January in Son La brings a sense of calm. After a year of many changes, people tend to reflect more. The transformations in the villages, the newly opened roads, the completed schools... all become clearer in the peaceful early days of the year. People remember the roads that used to be muddy every rainy season, the villages that were once remote...

In the January weather, the mountains and forests of Son La possess a tranquil beauty. Gone is the vibrant green of spring in the lowlands, and the dazzling sunshine of summer days is absent. The forests retain a subdued hue, punctuated by the blossoming of wild peach trees. The streams flow more gently, their water crystal clear, reflecting the pale gray sky. The landscape seems to be awaiting a change, yet without haste.

Life in January, as the mist gradually dissipates and the sun spreads across the valley, dispelling the chill and illuminating the stilt houses of the Thai people and the gray stone fences of the Hmong people, is slow and deliberate. The footsteps of those working in the fields echo slowly. They go to the fields to check the soil, plan for the new crop, and prepare the seeds. There is no rush, for everyone understands that the land needs time, and so do the people.

January is also the time when many people leave their hometowns to work far away, preparing for new journeys. Buses depart from the station in the early morning mist, carrying light luggage and familiar farewells. Behind the village, relatives watch them go, without sentimentality or haste. Farewells in the mountains are often quiet, because the belief in a return home is always present.

January afternoons descend quickly in Son La. As the sun sets behind the mountains, mist begins to blanket the landscape. Villages light up early, warm yellow light emanating from small windows. The sounds of television, children studying, and people calling out to each other in the yard create a familiar, peaceful rhythm of life.

The January night is quiet. The air is colder, and stars twinkle against the vast sky. The mountains and forests are deep in slumber, with only the occasional sound of wind and insects. In this setting, it's easier for people to confront themselves. New Year's plans don't need clear names yet; all that's needed is a firm belief to keep moving forward.

January in Son La thus becomes a time to remember. To remember the days gone by, to remember the hardships and the changes. To remember in order to appreciate the present, to move slowly but surely on the journey ahead. When January ends, the pace of life will quicken, the harvest season will begin, and plans will follow one another. But the lingering echoes of the slow pace at the beginning of the year remain, as a spiritual anchor for the entire year ahead.

In the mountainous town of Son La, January doesn't need to be dazzling. It just needs to be quiet enough for people to listen to themselves, slow enough for memories to linger. And in that slowness, faith in a new year is quietly nurtured, steadfast like the high mountains.

Source: https://baosonla.vn/van-hoa-xa-hoi/thang-gieng-tren-pho-nui-GE2r3xVDg.html