Recalling scent of the harvesting season
Sometimes in the crowded and cramped adult life, I always dream of childhood, of the simple country house, of distant days.My house is located in the middle of Muong Lo field, one of the four largest fields in the northern mountainous region. The field is planted with two rice crops, so all year round, the field is always colorful, sometimes with the color of young rice, sometimes green, sometimes golden, bends to wait for the harvesting day. Living next to the fields, I, like the children in the small village, had the green peaceful childhood.
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| Happy harvesting days in the village |
In my small memory, I remember at this same time, at the end of April, the beginning of May of the lunar calendar, everyone was busy changing their work, busy arranging the harvesting schedule. The countryside was rich, so every family had very large fields, it would be very hard to harvest alone, not in time to harvest before the stormy days, so changed the work, helped each other during the season as the form of community production has been continued for many generations, showing the closeness and solidarity of the village.
The God also cleverly challenges people, because after four months of hard work in the fields, the time to harvest the rice crop is the time when the weather is the harshest, the sun is burning hot. Despite the scorching sun, the shadows of brown clothes, the white hats are still appearing in the joy of the harvest.
During the harvesting season, grandmother and mother slept later, get up earlier to prepare food for the whole family and the helpers. Father and grandfather were busy sharpening farm tools to make them sharp, and then took advantage of patching the grain of rice that was damaged by rats from the previous crop to store the "golden seeds". My three brothers were assigned the task of boiling water to bring to the field. My mother said, sunny days made people thirsty, so when boiling water, you must add a few fresh tea leaves or a few bare kernels to clear the heat.
In the harvesting season, everyone was in a hurry and busy. Everyone was quick to catch the "heavenly pearls" before the stormy days.
During the rice harvesting season, the most fun was still for our children. This time was also the temporary time away from school and friends, so from dawn to dusk, small footsteps kept throbbing in the distant fields, bare head, bare feet, thin bare back. Straw was dried, the village road was like the giant mattress, the black bodies rolled around. Well, so many games, which was planting banana trees, wrestling, playing yin. Grandma and mother each time carrying rice across the street scolded them not to play because they easily got itched. Being scolded, each child was like a "puppy" who left "the area". But just for a moment, when the shadow of the grandmother and mother disappeared, the demons were everywhere struggling and rolling.
Done with the games, everyone was sweaty and red in the face. At this time, there was only one way to lower the heat, which was to jump into the stream at the top of the village to bathe. Screams and laughter resounded in a corner of the sky.
It's very hot in the city today. Now it is also the opportunity to harvest the lowland rice crop. Suddenly craving to roll around in the piles of dry straw, craving to smell green tea, bare kernels. Crowded life, I want to be a baby bird bathing in the stream.
