The wind is vast

There were times when I returned home, every afternoon I would let my bare feet go out to the fields to play with the children. In the city, it is rare to have such vast green spaces for children to play together. Sitting on the edge of the field, watching the children running and playing, listening to the echoes of children's laughter, just that alone made me feel peaceful and light-hearted. The sun was also gradually setting in the west, the wind still freely roamed across the fields. The wind brought the scent of grass, the scent of mud from each rice root and ditch. The scent of the homeland probably did not need to be anything grand, just the scent of mud, the scent of straw, but it lingered with a whole sky of nostalgia.

Anyone who has lived in the countryside, experienced the childhood days of playing bare-backed or catching crabs and snails, those memories will surely be deeply imprinted in their souls. When they grow up, especially when they go to school or work far from home, every time they calm down, that childhood sky will soothe and warm every step on the road of life. Me too, every time I go on a business trip passing through the fields, there always seems to be a strong attraction from the cool countryside breeze, the faint scent of young rice or the peaceful houses nestled under the green bamboo groves.

The wind blew from one season to another, from one field to another, turning our parents’ hair white. Perhaps no words can describe the hardships and difficulties our parents endured to get us to where we are today. Our mother’s silky black hair is now dry and brittle from the sun. Our father’s skin is tanned more than ever through the harvests. But with a strong heart and steadfast spirit, our parents held hands and went through the difficult days, when the sun burned our skin and the cold wind blew through our thin clothes. Those noble things taught us the right attitude towards ourselves and life, knowing how to cherish the difficult days and the sacred value of family warmth and the love for our homeland that is always in our hearts.

So, wherever I go, in my chest there is still the fresh, cool, and full of love for my hometown wind. Even though I am still the same, busy with work, I can only hurry back, hurry away... Returning home, I can only warm up a little on the sofa, drink a few cups of tea with my father before hurriedly packing my backpack, luggage, and vegetables back to the city. A bunch of ripe bananas, a dozen eggs, and my mother's teary eyes... I hold all of them in my heart with all my love. And my father's handshake and advice, to keep walking strongly on this long and wide life, as vast as the countryside winds...