Tien Phuoc in the season of crape myrtle blossoms.

I feel as if I'm in the middle of a poem, where the words, structure, and rhetorical devices follow no rules. That's the feeling of someone in the midst of the most poetic season of their homeland: the season of golden sưa blossoms in Tien land.

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The term "yellow sandalwood" is used to distinguish it from the white sandalwood (also known as cypress or white ebony) found in Hanoi . For a long time, yellow sandalwood has been widely planted by farmers in orchards and hillsides for its timber or to prevent soil erosion and landslides. Sandalwood thrives in the terrain and soil of semi-mountainous areas and is very easy to plant and grow.

Many of the naturally growing Dalbergia tonkinensis trees in the garden corners have become ancient, with trunks thicker than a person's embrace, rough bark, and sturdy roots spreading out, casting shade over a large area. In winter, the leaves of the Dalbergia tonkinensis tree turn pale yellow before falling back to the earth. Life is inherently miraculous and mysterious. Looking at the Dalbergia tonkinensis gardens, the rows of trees with their bare, silvery branches in the cold winter, it's hard to believe that this is the time when the trees accumulate life-giving sap. Winter carefully hides its leaves and flower clusters as gifts to the earth and sky.

Usually around the end of March or the beginning of April, the branches laden with buds begin to bloom. The first wave of flowers is like the prelude to a piece of music, a foreshadowing. Then, about a week or ten days later, the most abundant, vibrant, and freshest blooms burst forth, displaying their colors everywhere. It's difficult to describe the feeling of someone "walking amidst the fragrance" when, in the early morning mist, they are suddenly amazed to see a sea of yellow everywhere they look.

Look at the golden silk ribbons on both banks reflecting in the water, the Tien River flowing gently. Look at the ancient crape myrtle tree leaning in the corner of the garden, silently spreading its color and fragrance. Look at the rows of crape myrtle trees strolling along the road, as if humming the song "You came into my life, a dazzling golden flower, a fleeting fragrance wafting across the summer sky..." (Trinh Cong Son). Look at the winding village road charmingly beside the rice fields. The rice is turning golden. Golden sunlight, golden flowers against the green backdrop of spring at its ripening stage. On these occasions, those who enjoy admiring the scenery will seek out the high hills, gazing far into the distance to see layers of golden hues near and far, filled with a sense of delight...

But the vibrant blossoms of spring only bloom for a mere two days. The flowers' nonchalance, like "arriving without a promise, departing without waiting," doesn't need anyone to "thank the flowers for blooming for us," leaving behind a lingering sense of regret. The last breeze of the day becomes a moment of golden rain, sending the delicate petals, like golden silk ribbons, back to Mother Earth. These tiny, fragile petals must bid farewell to the sunlight, to the clouds. Life is endless, but beauty is so fragile. The desire to cherish and hold onto beauty is replaced by a wistful longing, "Has anyone ever truly passed through my life?"

The devastating Molave storm of 2020 caused many crape myrtle trees in Tien Giang to fall or be uprooted. Subsequent crape myrtle blossoms still bloomed, but sparsely. It wasn't until four or five years later that the crape myrtle truly revived and offered the world a breathtakingly beautiful flowering season. The magic of spring and the mystery of plants and trees remain a wonder, reminding us to cherish life, to cherish and enjoy every precious moment.

I naively wished I had many magical powers to make the rows of crape myrtle trees, crape myrtle gardens, and crape myrtle hills of my homeland bloom and retain their golden color in the sunlight.

Source: https://baodanang.vn/channel/5433/202504/tien-phuoc-mua-hoa-sua-4003526/