Mid-Autumn Day

September begins with a long holiday and the continuous rains from August. The cold wind of the changing weather can be heard in the wind. The season of the southwest wind begins.

Is it the gentle breeze, the cool weather that makes my heart sink, filled with a senseless sadness? Or is it the sound of the school drum this morning that revives so many innocent childhood memories? Or maybe it is the blue sky with scattered white clouds drifting like soft cushions inviting me to come up and play that makes my heart soften, wanting to escape this busy life to wander and enjoy the gentle beauty of autumn.

The reason is vague but the emotions are as overwhelming as the floodwaters at the source. Reward yourself with a day of wandering, seeing and smelling the fullness of autumn.

Mid-autumn.

The street is bright with the colors of flower carts. So many kinds of flowers compete to show off their beauty. So many brilliant colors make people fascinated. However, I still love the color of white flowers - xuyen chi - nestled along the country road. The country road is most beautiful when autumn comes, each patch of white flowers sways and smiles with the wind. Not as bright as coins, not as passionate as roses, just a simple color of white petals, modestly hiding by the road but making my heart remember forever and unable to forget. Flowers are only beautiful and fresh when smiling with the wind, cut flowers and put them in vases and they wilt overnight. Perhaps flowers do not allow themselves to depend on anyone, only allow themselves to smile when growing from mother earth, that's why.

My love for flowers probably started from the resilience of the fragile plant. It looks skinny but has a very strong vitality. Just one rain is enough for the green shoots to burst out from the ground and grow rapidly. The plant stretches out to drink the dew from the sky and absorb nutrients from the soil to grow. Even a month of drought cannot kill the plant, it waits for the next rain, silently saving its best, waiting for the rain to fall and then blooming countless pure white flowers.

Wandering on the winding country roads, suddenly came across a vast lotus pond. The last lotus flowers of the season were still radiant with color and fragrance. The big round lotus buds shyly began to open. The cool green lotus leaves connected to each other to form a carpet gently moving in the wind. In the morning when the lotus blooms, the lotus scent permeated the space around the lake in a gentle, peaceful scent. The owner of the lotus pond gently rowed the boat to cut the big round lotus buds in time for the early market. Looking at her nimble hands, looking at the lotus buds shyly nestled together, suddenly felt a feeling of admiring that graceful flower. Bought a bunch of pink lotus flowers to bring home and put in a brown ceramic vase. Turned on an old song, closed my eyes and half-closed my eyes to enjoy the music, smelled the scent of the flowers, listened to the sound of the rain gently falling on the corrugated iron roof. Suddenly, my heart felt strangely relaxed, as if the scent of flowers had surrounded the house, preventing worries and anxieties from entering, allowing gentleness to spread, allowing love to fill people's hearts...

In the middle of the month of forgiveness for the dead, people flock to the temple to chant sutras and recite Buddha's name, fasting every day in the hope of removing bad luck for themselves and their families. One day, I saw the internet buzzing with stories about releasing birds, then about the quarrel between a group of people releasing fish and a group of people using electric shock to catch fish. Suddenly, my heart ached with sadness. As long as I am still ignorant about the so-called releasing animals to relieve karma, my karma will be even greater. Buddha is me, I am Buddha. Doing good deeds must come from a kind heart, hoping to bring good things to others, not from exchange, giving with the hope of receiving in return. Giving is to spread love. Giving is to bring peace to my heart.

A sister I just met confided that every year, when July comes, her volunteer group goes to the mountainous provinces to give necessities to people in difficult circumstances. “There is no electricity, no clean water, and the shops only have a few items, which is very pitiful. Only when you go to places like that can you see how lucky and happier you are than so many people,” she confided. She said that every time she goes back, she looks back at herself, telling herself to try harder, to love herself more because only loving yourself can create positive energy that spreads to those around her. Listening to her story, looking at her passionate eyes, I suddenly feel so small, struggling every day with worries about food and clothing, always complaining about the situation but unable to think more positively, unable to sympathize with the pain of others. If everyone were like her, giving a little, life would be so beautiful.

It's mid-autumn. It's almost the end of the seventh lunar month. The rainy season has ended. The storm has lasted for more than a week and hasn't stopped, making my thoughts about the state of life linger endlessly...

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