Leisure talk: Leaves are still green

Early summer, the project drawing board stood tall right next to the brown acacia tree stumps that had been sawed off the ground. This school year, the children would have more classrooms but would lose a cool patch of leaves and a spacious playground. Their wide, bewildered eyes searched for the beloved "dragonfly trees" so sadly.

My child no longer has the chance to cup his hands to welcome the "dragonflies" pouring down from the brown cotton flowers like rain after the generous winds of summer afternoons. Now, he only has a bunch of dried "dragonflies" left on the bookshelf, occasionally taking them out to admire, then asking his mother if this "dragonfly" will transform into a tall "dragonfly tree"?

Saigon has many "dragonfly trees", especially on Pham Ngoc Thach Street. I used to feel sorry when I saw the "dragonflies" being crushed in a big storm that swept through the city years ago. Now, I still occasionally wander across that street, glance up at the canopy, see the leaves still green and feel strangely peaceful!

Trees always come back in my dreams. Sometimes it is an old eucalyptus tree with long clusters of leaves and cone-shaped flowers that flutter in the monsoon wind. My neighborhood friends and I once stood still to bid farewell to the old eucalyptus tree when my father called a carpenter to cut it down to make a house pillar. That was the first and last eucalyptus tree to exist in my life. Later, the pot of leaves that my mother used to steam to cure a cold also lacked the pungent smell of eucalyptus leaves. The lack of an "old" smell from my childhood seemed like a small thing, but it was something I kept looking for and could never find again. Because even if I inhaled the smell of industrial eucalyptus oil to my lungs, I still could not find a trace of the fresh green eucalyptus leaves from years ago.

Sometimes I miss the forest of ironwood trees in Dong Nai . When I was 4 years old, I walked through the ironwood forest while my relatives were looking for the monkey doctor's house. In the middle of a vast forest, looking up and seeing the leaves intertwined to block out the sunlight, I felt like a small squirrel being protected and embraced. This autumn, the ironwood forest is in the season of changing leaves, turning the sky silver, but I have not had the chance to return there.

I was also saddened by the disappearance of three mangrove trees at the foot of Saigon Bridge (Thu Duc direction) when a large project began. The last trace of the suburban area was no longer there. Few people knew that in that place, in that direction, there used to be trees of the green swamp.

Then there would be occasional prunings to ensure safety. I remember, around Tet, in the harsh December sun, the lush green treetops would droop after the chainsaws snapped. The pungent smell of tree sap wafted up. Walking on the road, looking up at the bare tree trunks, my heart skipped a beat, sounding like a sigh.

Sometimes I feel foolish like a child, always wishing the trees would always be green, no matter how modern and developed the city is...

Source: https://thanhnien.vn/nhan-dam-la-con-xanh-185250906173916646.htm