LB,
... Last month, I caught two sparrows in my company’s tennis table room. Someone had left the windows open for the two little sparrows flying in and out. My hunting work was so easy: closed the windows and chased after them in the room!After catching them, I opened the windows, laid the two sparrows on the windowsill. One bird flown at once, the other was unable
to fly, it had hit the glass windows when it tried to escape from me. Regretting for what I had done, I brought the poor sparrow into the “ICU”, let it drink some water. Few minutes later, the sparrow recovered and flown away. Following the flying bird with my eyes, it seemed that my
childhood had come back to me all at once. In a small village in Quảng Ngãi, I have a house with a tree garden where sparrows make their nests on the top of areca trees. Sparrows are not singing birds, they used to wake me up every morning with their noisy voice!. I would shake the trees, try in vain to expel the birds out of the garden. At that time, I didn’t know that those noises were among the best sounds I’ve heard in life. It’d be easier for us to imagine flocks of birds flying over the rice fields, or you LB with ao dai cycling across Trang Tien bridge every misty morning, or I myself herding cows in a pasture. But now the birds are in the city, you are in that high-rise building and I’m here to report to you! Isn’t it strange?
....
LB,
If you reach my blog by accident and see these above lines which are extracted from my"report" to you, be sympathy with me!. That piece of writing is my first 'work' after 2-3 month ! where are all my words? Perhaps they have gone, like the birds flying from the windows ... :)
... Last month, I caught two sparrows in my company’s tennis table room. Someone had left the windows open for the two little sparrows flying in and out. My hunting work was so easy: closed the windows and chased after them in the room!After catching them, I opened the windows, laid the two sparrows on the windowsill. One bird flown at once, the other was unable
to fly, it had hit the glass windows when it tried to escape from me. Regretting for what I had done, I brought the poor sparrow into the “ICU”, let it drink some water. Few minutes later, the sparrow recovered and flown away. Following the flying bird with my eyes, it seemed that my
childhood had come back to me all at once. In a small village in Quảng Ngãi, I have a house with a tree garden where sparrows make their nests on the top of areca trees. Sparrows are not singing birds, they used to wake me up every morning with their noisy voice!. I would shake the trees, try in vain to expel the birds out of the garden. At that time, I didn’t know that those noises were among the best sounds I’ve heard in life. It’d be easier for us to imagine flocks of birds flying over the rice fields, or you LB with ao dai cycling across Trang Tien bridge every misty morning, or I myself herding cows in a pasture. But now the birds are in the city, you are in that high-rise building and I’m here to report to you! Isn’t it strange?
....
LB,
If you reach my blog by accident and see these above lines which are extracted from my"report" to you, be sympathy with me!. That piece of writing is my first 'work' after 2-3 month ! where are all my words? Perhaps they have gone, like the birds flying from the windows ... :)
