Happiness is for those who touch the golden season there, as if the whole world gathered in each field, each golden rice of grace, the yellow of prosperity.
Happiness is for those who touch the golden season there, as if the whole world gathered in each field, each golden rice of grace, the yellow of prosperity.
When the seasons change, starting in autumn, winter and spring, the fields are also in the season of ripe rice. Those are the most beautiful colors among the beautiful colors. These are not valleys that bloom and touch people's hearts as much as the wild sunflower season in the Northwest and Central Highlands. It is endlessly reminiscent of October and November with the buckwheat fields in Ha Giang, causing many journeys to come, just to admire the tiny pink and white flowers on the tarpaulin hillsides. wind.
Happiness is for those who touch the season there, as if the whole world gathered in each field, each golden rice of grace, the yellow of prosperity. That is when driving on the highway, looking through the window, seeing the vastness of gold, seeing the fields that have begun to harvest, overwhelming our eyes.
We put aside the matter of food and clothing, and set out in the golden season of heaven and earth. There is no need to choose, because the entire S-shaped strip of brocade land everywhere shines with the golden color of fields in season.
I drove in a light rain to Ta Phin, Sa Pa, going down small slopes, just to see the golden fields. I followed the indigenous people in La Pan Tan, because I wanted to see the masterpiece of ripe rice on the magical raspberry hill at least once in my life. Then go down the hammock-like slope in La Pan Tan, squeeze into the rice fields, this place is famous for its delicious sticky rice, and watch the farmers harvesting the new crop.
In the ripe rice season, escape the noisy city with crowded intersections and intersections, go to the suburbs, where rows of green coconut trees hold the shadow of the sun, where rows of areca palms line up on the dirt road leading to the house. small. The edge of the house is dotted with porcelain flower pots, hibiscus fences and even a lotus pond with blooming lotus flowers. And around there is golden rice, the season of ripe rice. Try leaving your sandals on the green grass path, in the grass there are wildflowers blooming, step down with the rice. The smell of ripe rice is an extremely wonderful scent, and even when you try to bite into a grain of rice that is still holding milk, it is magical.
The rice season is ripe, but the terraced fields in the Northwest, which were hidden in wind and rain, suddenly become a picture painted by a talented artist. Soft curves create boundaries, interspersed with yellow and blue, and indispensable copper burning smoke slowly rising into the blue sky. Early in the morning, farmers carry rice like a full kettle, sweat drops on the loving land as if giving thanks for the blessings of this life.
Just a season of ripe rice, just rice stalks that have gone through all the cycles of growth, from the hands of the caretaker, now the rice flowers are ripe and golden, making the whole world change. When the seasons change, the rains absorb enough for the soil to bring water to the roots, and countless drops of sweat have dripped down in the fields, so that when the sun rises, when the clouds return, the rice fields begin to bloom. starting to suck milk, is the season of prosperity.
The season of ripe rice, walking between magical heaven and earth, in the vastness of golden rice. The beauty of the homeland in each step is truly magical.
Ha Giang
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Update day
: 17/11/2023
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