In the quiet city...

Having lived in Tam Ky for over 20 years, I've only just realized how strangely I love this place. One morning, while having coffee with a student who had come from the industrial, smoky city to visit, she said, "It's so easy to breathe here."

Surely, I and many other residents of this city have, since time immemorial, breathed easily amidst so much greenery without ever realizing it. My city, still as small as the town where I first settled, where my friends lived, and where our children were born and grew up, has never been divided into hierarchical classes.

The first time I left Tam Ky in 2002 to study in Hue , I wrote the poem "Remembering Tam Ky," and my heart was still filled with the lingering scent of milk flower blossoms on Huynh Thuc Khang Street. That longing wasn't agonizing, but it was a tangled mix of affectionate feelings that I couldn't quite put a name to.

This tranquil place, with its streets, corners, and rows of trees, seems unchanged over the years. I love those leisurely winter afternoons sitting in the small attic with an old friend at a cafe near the city square.

I loved the early mornings, the children happily playing along the Ban Thach stream, watching the sunrise. I loved the quiet moments of contemplation, watching the sparrows chirping in the garden around Da Tuong's house. Our house, fortunately, had enough space for trees, flowers, vegetables, and even the flock of sparrows on the porch catching insects and picking grains...

That love was quietly nurtured from the days when the town still had the appearance of a small city. There were several occasions in our lives when we planned to leave Tam Ky and move to a more "livable" place, but then, as if by fate, we were quietly sheltered and protected by our motherland.

This year, winter has seen fewer prolonged periods of rain. The weather during the "minor cold" period doesn't bring the intense chill of previous years, but the rows of crape myrtle trees in Huong Tra village, along Tran Hung Dao street, and along Bach Dang street remain bare as usual. I enjoy this characteristic charm of winter every day. Because on my familiar, wide-open road to work, my city is never shrouded in smog or traffic jams.

I have a childhood friend from the same small neighborhood who shares my love for displaying traditional, brightly colored flowers from the old Tet holiday, such as gladioli, marigolds, and sometimes just a few bunches of colorful chrysanthemums. These simple flowers seem to strengthen our community bonds, not just during the evenings when the lights are out. Like this morning, as the first light rains of the early winter began, my friend messaged me, "It feels like Tet already," sending me a vivid glimpse of childhood memories from the colorful chrysanthemums being sold at the market gate behind the supermarket.

I no longer harbor the desire to move to a more livable place, having spent more than half my life in this "midpoint" city across the country. I belong to Tam Ky as a city of tranquility that still preserves its diverse ecological resources.

Perhaps many friends will be "surprised" when they arrive in Tam Ky, a place far different from the "all sand and more sand" dots on the map. But never mind, "the heart of beloved Quang Nam " will forever beat with the same fervent rhythm, nurturing the source of "easy breathing" for countless lives and destinies.

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