Joyful, anxious March

March comes with the bright yellow sunshine of spring. Not as harsh as the summer sun, but enough to make us sweat and sometimes wrap in it a lingering chill. The sunshine pours golden honey that glistens on the young leaves. The sunshine awakens the sleeping buds when winter still reigns over the earth and sky.

Somewhere in the distance, there is a very distinctive scent of strawberry flowers. It would be strange to say that there is a taste in the scent, but if we really blend in with the breath of the earth and sky, we can feel the sour, cool taste in that flower scent. The ivory white strawberry flowers seem to make the colors of March more fresh.

Illustration: Tin Tuc Newspaper

Hearing the customer's call, the old barber rushed out. While clacking his scissors, he confided that he was pounding crabs for lunch. He smacked his lips that almost anything could be raised now, including crabs. Then he remembered the shrimps from the time when this new urban area was still a field: "March shrimps are full of eggs. Wild shrimps are very different, when braised, they are bright red, not pale like farmed shrimps, they taste fragrant and firm."

The sound of scissors stopped as he relaxed on a reclining chair on the sidewalk, looking up at the canopy of the ancient Barringtonia acutangula, waiting for the red flowers. He said that after each time the leaves shed and new buds sprout, the Barringtonia acutangula would usually bloom.

March not only brings new sunshine but also often brings rain. Rain watering the young shoots to eagerly stir. But strangely, it has rained very little these past few months. The northeast monsoon winds keep coming one after another even though spring is gradually ripening. That is why, in a recent phone call from the countryside, my uncle said that for months there has not been a single rain, so many plants have died, especially in the gardens of families who have left the countryside for the city.

Thinking about the late cold, the sunshine, the rain, I remember the face filled with anxious anticipation of my neighbor who loves bonsai. He bought a very large bonsai tree and soaked it in water because he heard people say that soaking a bonsai tree will make it bloom. The young buds have appeared, but because the tree has not yet adapted to the pot, combined with the continuous cold spells and lack of sunlight, the buds gradually wither and dry up. That's why he hopes there won't be any more Northeast monsoons, hopes the sun will shine and the rain will pour down so that the young buds can wake up and move...

In this new urban area, there are families who have moved from the countryside. They often reminisce about the corners of their countryside gardens, missing the familiar plants. So some families bought large grapefruit trees to plant on the sidewalk in front of their doors. In March, clusters of young green grapefruits as big as marbles were hidden behind the leaves. On the branches, there were still clusters of flowers quietly lighting up the sky with beautiful smiles. The gentle scent of late-season grapefruit wafted through the gentle spring breeze. Under the grapefruit tree, there were strong branches covered with thorns. Suddenly, I remembered the bowl of boiled snails in the poor countryside in the old days. Snails dipped in fish sauce had the warm taste of ginger, the fragrant aroma of lemon leaves. It was delicious, but not enough flavor, and the snails had to be picked with thorns just picked from the grapefruit tree in the garden. Eating snails like that would be delicious...

March brings new flavors, sounds, and colors.

March takes us back to the old days and days of long ago.

March brings joy mixed with anxious anticipation...

According to People's Army

Source: https://baoangiang.com.vn/han-hoan-khac-khoai-thang-ba-a419333.html