Endless July afternoon

July slowly passed through the veteran's silver hair, he sat quietly by the cemetery, where his friends had been buried for decades. The windy afternoon seemed to drift back to the days of falling bombs and stray bullets, the vast space before him was filled with images of the battlefield, the dead, the living, and the pain. He sat motionless, silently counting each memory, each month and year together on that heroic battlefield. Then, walking slowly, he went to each grave, lit a few incense sticks for his friends, remembering the day his friends left without a word of goodbye.

Today, the country is green on all sides, having gone through long resistance wars, green shoots have sprouted, generations of young people are enthusiastically setting out to build their homeland and country. Now a new era has begun when provinces and cities are merged...

July has come, spreading the pale rays of sunlight on the squash trellis, the lazy cat bends its body, slowly walking into the kitchen. On the porch, the chicks run happily after their mother, their chirping sound echoing throughout the large space. These days, people often talk about memories, comrades and the sacrifices and losses of the previous generation. That is also a way for the young generation to be proud of Vietnam, through the ups and downs of history, our ancestors have always been pine trees, cypress trees fighting for the Fatherland to have a Vietnamese appearance.

July, the month of gratitude, although the weather has many changes, every afternoon the old forest in front of us rustles in the wind, the clear colors of the summer months are replaced by the gloomy rain, but the footsteps of young people are still bustling out there, preparing for trips back to the source, looking for the red address. The long journeys along the national highway, everywhere you can see the green shirts of volunteers, the white shirts of students. Everyone wants to hear, see, and witness with their own eyes the places where the brothers, uncles, gentlemen... have gone through the long resistance wars. To appreciate more the sacred land bearing the mark of a thousand years of history, everywhere there is the sky of the homeland, the country.

In the cemetery of his hometown, the incense smoke lingered with the sounds of the July days, as if someone had returned to a familiar place, welcoming the new beginnings on the vast road. I saw the veteran slowly walking past the graves, his hands caressing each letter, his eyes leaving many memories on each tombstone. Those who remained would never forget the days that had passed.

The windy July afternoon…

Switzerland

Source: https://baodongnai.com.vn/dong-nai-cuoi-tuan/202507/mien-man-chieu-thang-bay-d3b26d7/