I love Hanoi's autumn because of all the cherished memories from my childhood. Some autumns pass through a person's life with the scent of young rice, the golden color of leaves, and the gentle breeze of the afternoon touching one's shoulders. But there are also autumns that pass through with nostalgia. A nostalgia that cannot be named. Just hearing the wind rustling through the window, seeing a streak of sunlight resting on the doorstep, or catching the faint scent of ylang-ylang on the street is enough to bring memories back unexpectedly.
I remember Hanoi of the old autumns. I remember the familiar streets with trees whose leaves changed color with the seasons. I remember the small kitchen, fragrant with the smell of freshly cooked rice and my mother's familiar dishes. I remember my mother's voice calling me home for dinner, echoing in the small alley. I remember those carefree days... Until one day, looking back, I realize that time is not kind to anyone.
Autumn made me realize the finiteness of life. A leaf falling from a branch doesn't say goodbye, but completes a life cycle. A summer passing doesn't disappear, but makes way for a new season. It's the same with people. Things that once hurt us become part of our memories. People we thought would be with us for life end up just a name lying quietly in our recollections. And there are days we thought we couldn't get back on our feet, but they quietly pass by.
Autumn reminds me of Hanoi of yesteryear and of a bygone era that can never return. Time takes away our youth, changes the landscape, but it preserves in each person's heart a pristine realm of memories. It's strange how, when autumn arrives, memories return, stirring up a sense of longing.
This shows that time doesn't just pass by. Time also teaches us how to let go. Let go of things that don't belong to us, let go of old resentments, let go of desires that once weary our hearts. So that one day, standing before a new autumn, we can calmly smile.
Perhaps maturity isn't about having everything, but about knowing what to hold onto, what to forget, and what to gently let go of. This autumn, I don't wish for anything too grand. I only hope my mother remains healthy, my loved ones are safe and sound, and that our home is always filled with laughter. One afternoon, I can sit for a long time with a cup of tea, listening to the wind rustling through the empty porch and watching the sunlight slowly slant across the steps. That's enough. Because ultimately, a lifetime's happiness isn't about fleeting glamour, but lies in the ordinary things we often overlook.
Outside, a gentle breeze carries the scent of autumn, a few golden leaves fluttering and falling onto the doorstep, so lightly it feels like the breath of the earth. I silently listen to autumn passing by. Without clinging, without rushing. I simply feel grateful for the seasons that have come and gone, the people I've met and those who have left. Because each season in life, whether short or long, leaves behind a part of my memory.
Autumn arrives. The earth and sky change their attire, and we learn to change ourselves, becoming more tolerant of life and gentler with the past. Autumn gives us a moment of quiet reflection after life's crossroads, allowing us to look back on the long journey ahead, and then calmly move forward.
Outside on the porch, a cool breeze is blowing.
Source: https://hanoimoi.vn/thu-trong-mien-nho-1759319.html
