Top 12 Most Engaging Explanatory Essays and Expressions about the Majestic Bàng Tree

Each of us, undoubtedly, has memories of school, teachers, and friends. For me, those memories are intertwined with the bàng tree in the schoolyard, and the image of this bàng tree is unforgettable.

Have you ever wondered about the ancestry of the bàng tree? I have always been curious and sought answers. According to the research of some scientists, the bàng tree is a large hardwood tree living in tropical regions, belonging to the Dipterocarpaceae family.

The origin of this species is still a subject of debate, it may originate from India, the Malay Peninsula, or New Guinea. To this day, the bàng tree is becoming increasingly common in many places. In Vietnam, bàng trees are also widely planted and popular.

The bàng tree is a hardwood tree, often found in tropical regions. Our country with its tropical climate and characteristic monsoon winds is very suitable for the bàng tree to thrive. Bàng trees are planted everywhere, especially in schools. The bàng tree can grow up to 35 meters tall, with straight, symmetrical canopies and horizontal branches. The trunk is large, rugged, and cracked due to enduring storms, facing the sun and rain, and enduring dew and wind.

As the tree ages, its canopy becomes flatter to form a broad bowl shape. The leaves are large, about 15–25 cm long and 10–14 cm wide, oval-shaped, dark green, and glossy. This is a species of tree whose leaves fall early in the dry season; before falling, the leaves change color to reddish-pink or golden-brown due to pigments.

Bàng tree leaves change according to the seasons. By looking at bàng leaves, one can tell which season it is. The bàng tree roots delve deep into the soil to absorb nutrients to nourish the tree's growth and development. Many people pay little attention to bàng flowers, but they are quite beautiful.

The flowers are unisexual, with both male and female flowers growing on the same tree. Both types of flowers have a diameter of about 1 cm, are whitish-green, indistinct, without petals, and grow in leaf axils or at the ends of branches. Bàng flowers fall and develop into fruits. The fruit is a drupe, when young it is green, then turns yellow, and finally becomes red when ripe, containing a seed.

Do you know about the benefits of the bàng tree? Let's explore its benefits together. Especially for students, the bàng tree is a shade tree for the schoolyard, where you can chat, confide, and relax under its shade.

Moreover, the bàng tree is like a friend to share joy and sorrow with, even though it cannot speak, it somehow alleviates many worries. Or it is also the resting place for farmers returning from the fields. Bàng trees are planted in tropical areas as ornamental trees or for shade thanks to their large, dense canopies.

The fruit is edible and slightly sour. Bàng seeds are used to make preserves. The wood is red, hard, and fairly waterproof. In the summer, bàng leaves are also used as fans, very refreshing. Bàng also has medicinal properties that few people know about.

The bark of the bàng tree is used in traditional medicine. People use bàng leaves to make medicine to treat liver-related diseases, fever, ulcers, and even some cancers. Moreover, bàng trees have naturally become part of poetry, music, and painting, intimately associated with memories of school days, with very nice songs:

Red shirt in winter
Blue shirt in summer
When the bàng tree comes into bloom
Birds flock around…

The bàng tree continues to be a familiar and intimate tree with humans. The bàng tree will always be my cherished companion, accompanying me through the school years.

Since I can't remember when, the banyan tree in front of the classroom has become incredibly dear to me. I've admired that banyan tree throughout all four seasons. Each season, the banyan tree has its own beauty. I don't know if it's true or just because of the love I have for this tree, but I always find the banyan tree beautiful in every season.

When the first cicada sounds herald the arrival of summer, the sap flow in the banyan becomes stronger than ever. That sap flow supports the once tiny, tender banyan leaves to now spread out luxuriantly in a deep green. It turns out, the banyan has been working diligently for three seasons to now spread its leafy canopy, providing shade and coolness for us.

The banyan is also generous enough to provide us with leaves to make fans when we ask for them. It's also during this time that the banyan blooms small, delicate clusters of white flowers. With every gentle breeze, a carpet of banyan flowers is laid evenly around its base, adorning the long hair of our schoolgirls.

The banyan looks splendid, and we, the girls, seem even more beautiful with banyan flowers adorning our hair. After three distant summer months, the banyan gleams brightly as autumn arrives. The gentle golden autumn sun shining through each leaf reflects off the glossy face of the banyan. Who wouldn't feel happy seeing themselves beautiful? The banyan is happy because it sees itself beautiful. And perhaps it also hears the chatter, the laughter of the mischievous, lovely students.

The banyan buzzes with us in every new school day, sharing with us the joys and sorrows of school life. I remember, once I didn't do my homework, the teacher punished me severely. I was so sad, playing aimlessly by the banyan tree. Surprisingly, the banyan bestowed upon me a shower of flowers. Overwhelmed with emotions, I immediately wrote a poem. Who would have thought, that poem won first prize in a youth writing contest, earning me an A. I silently thanked the banyan. Thanks to the banyan, I understood that life is truly a series of ups and downs!

Autumn passes, winter returns. The banyan leaves turn dark brown. Then one morning, I saw the banyan tree blaze red like fire. That giant flame burned red for weeks. I stood under the banyan tree, feeling warm. Perhaps the banyan had burned itself to resist the cold of winter?

Then the northerly wind blew, and the fiery red leaves fell. After shedding its brilliant coat, the banyan stood with its rugged trunk and bare branches amidst the wind and rain. The banyan shrinks and sleeps soundly to the lullaby of the wind. The banyan stands strong to withstand the entire winter. Waiting for spring to come, the banyan will rise again…

Spring arrives, the weather becomes warm, and the banyan tree bursts forth with countless new buds. Almost throughout the winter, the banyan had hidden within it the fresh green color of life. The banyan welcomes spring eagerly, intoxicated. Perhaps, it understands that it too must contribute a bit of its essence to create the vitality of the earth and sky.

I fall silent as I think about tomorrow having to say goodbye to the school, having to say goodbye to the banyan too. But for now, the banyan and I are still close friends. This morning, the weather is truly beautiful. The banyan is still there, waving its branches to welcome me to class. I love the banyan so much, so much.

My childhood is intertwined with the ancient banyan tree. I remember the times of seeking shade, taking shelter from the rain under the generous canopy of the banyan, savoring the enticing sweet and bitter taste of ripe banyan fruit, relishing the indescribably earthy flavor of banyan seeds...

From the age of seven until eighteen when I came of age for military service, despite traveling far and wide, from North to South, I had never seen a banyan tree as vast and majestic as the one in my neighborhood. Its trunk was so large that it took two or three adult arms to encircle it. Its canopy was broad, covering an entire courtyard of about a hundred square meters. In its prime, my grandfather said: This large banyan tree has likely lived for a hundred years, worthy of being called an ancient banyan tree.

I remember the times of seeking shade, taking shelter from the rain under the generous canopy of the banyan, savoring the enticing sweet and bitter taste of ripe banyan fruit, relishing the indescribably earthy flavor of banyan seeds, and recalling the times of catching cicadas, playing hide and seek mischievously around the banyan tree trunk. All these paint for me a unique picture of the banyan tree in our neighborhood.

My favorite time was during the cold spell in the lunar February, according to the seasonal division of our ancestors: January's cold is like a fortress, February's cold brings fortune, March's cold is piercing. At that time, the banyan buds flourished as if inviting each other to grow, calling out to each other to sprout, urging each other to grow quickly to cover the branches before the beginning of summer. It could be said that banyan leaves (like some other trees in the fig family) show the most distinct signs of seasonal change, if someone bothers to observe its growth and withering, as well as the changing colors of its leaves.

Perhaps that's why for generations, children have fondly remembered some lines from a few songs: Winter leaves turn red, summer leaves stay green… like a prelude welcoming the return of summer (later I learned that this was the opening part of a song by composer Hoàng Vân written for children in the 60s, 70s of the last century).

There was a poet who, while admiring the winter, admiring the red color of the banyan leaves, wrote a touching poem: The northerly wind still blows harshly

The dusty rain still seems vague

The banyan leaves still curl and burn

Red as when bidding farewell to the sky

I don't know how to love you more

When winter is near…

.

But by the time I was twenty-three, that ancient banyan tree was no more. For the sake of land for livelihoods, it was cut down. After completing military service and returning to stand on the land once tied to the ancient banyan tree, my heart couldn't help but feel empty, mournful. Suddenly, I felt a sense of emptiness...

Now, every time I see the banyan leaves blaze red after completing their duty, falling back to the roots, in the transitional season, I am filled with nostalgia for the ancient banyan tree. Understandably, it's because it's an indispensable part of the childhood sky and memorable moments of ours.

Banyan (scientific name: Terminalia catappa) is a large woody tree species native to tropical regions, belonging to the Combretaceae family. The origin of this species is still a matter of debate, it may have originated from India, the Malay Peninsula, or New Guinea.

This tree species can grow up to 35 meters tall, with its canopy growing straight, symmetrical, and its branches lying horizontally. As the tree ages, its canopy becomes flatter, forming a shape resembling a wide bowl. The leaves are large, about 15-25 cm long and 10-14 cm wide, egg-shaped, dark green, and glossy.

This is a deciduous tree species; before shedding, the leaves turn red, pinkish, or yellowish-brown, due to pigments such as violaxanthin, lutein, or zeaxanthin. The flowers are unisexual, with male and female flowers growing on the same tree.

Both types of flowers have a diameter of about 1 cm, slightly greenish-white, not clearly visible, without petals; they grow on leaf axils or at the ends of branches. The fruit is a long drupe, 5-7 cm long and 3-5.5 cm wide, green when young, then turning yellow and finally red when ripe, containing a seed.

Banyan is planted in tropical areas as an ornamental tree or for shade thanks to its large and dense canopy. The fruit is edible and slightly sour. The wood is red, strong, and fairly waterproof; in Polynesia, it is used to make canoes.

Banyan Fruit: The leaves contain some flavonoids (such as kaempferol or quercetin) as well as tannins (such as punicalagin, punicalagin, tercatin), saponins, and phytosterols. Due to containing many chemicals, banyan leaves and bark are also used in various traditional medicine systems for several purposes. For example, in Taiwan, fallen leaves are used as medicine for liver-related diseases.

In Suriname, tea made from banyan leaves is used to treat diseases such as dysentery and diarrhea. It is also believed that banyan leaves contain cancer-preventing substances (although they do not seem to show anti-cancer abilities) and antioxidant and chromosome-protective characteristics as well as anti-oxidant and chromosome-protective characteristics.

Seen from afar, the banyan tree resembles a giant umbrella with multiple layers of sprawling foliage, providing shade over a wide schoolyard for us to relax and unwind after each stressful hour of study. Up close, the banyan tree stands tall and straight, its dark brown trunk telling tales of many years gone by. This tree is highly sensitive to the changing of the four seasons. By observing its leaves, one can accurately discern the seasons of the year.

In autumn, as the weather turns cool, the banyan leaves, which are as large as adult hands and normally green, transition to a golden yellow hue, curling at the edges and swirling like autumnal winds. At this point, they even turn a shade of reddish-purple, and when the playful autumn breezes blow, they hastily detach from their branches, waving goodbye gracefully, akin to waving arms bidding farewell to the place of their birth. The sight of these banyan leaves spread out across the schoolyard is truly breathtaking!

Gradually, the banyan leaves change color until, when the chilly winds from the North blow in, the banyan tree is left with not a single leaf. Only bare, stark branches remain, seemingly stoic and enduring the bitter cold of winter, yet within those bare branches, life sap still flows.

Then, as the weather warms up again, spring arrives. In just a week, the small, delicate shoots have covered all the big and small branches. In the blink of an eye, the entire tree is enveloped in fresh, vibrant green. The leaves on the lower and upper levels grow rapidly, inexplicably. From tiny buds the size of young children's palms, they now fan out like palm fronds.

By the time summer comes, the yellow leaves provide cool shade over the entire schoolyard, and this is the time when we, the little ones, gather joyfully to play and frolic under the beloved banyan tree's refreshing canopy. The banyan tree also serves as a gathering place for birds to congregate, sing, and dance amidst the leafy canopy, adding to the tree's graceful beauty.

We little ones love this banyan tree dearly because it is intertwined with our school. It has witnessed countless memories of joy and sorrow for us. Even if we have to leave the school and this beloved banyan tree behind in the future, the image of the banyan tree will forever be etched in my mind.

Surely, every student has memories of their school, teachers, and friends. For me, one memory that I will never forget is the image of the banyan tree in the schoolyard.

From a distance, the banyan tree looks like a peculiar green umbrella. Its roots protrude from the ground like dragons meandering. But the most beautiful aspect is still the banyan leaves. In the late days of winter, the banyan leaves transition from old green to dazzling red, not leaving a single leaf untouched. Now, the banyan stands out with its red leaves amidst the cold winter sky, making us feel warm. With just a gentle breeze, banyan leaves fall.

At that moment, the banyan leaves resemble airplanes, abruptly falling from above, swaying back and forth, swirling around before finally landing on the ground. The airplanes land stacked upon each other like a vibrant carpet, rendering the banyan branches bare. Then spring arrives, and fresh shoots cover the once barren branches.

These fresh shoots are a peculiar bright green, so beautiful that people hurriedly pause for a moment to admire the banyan leaves. And it seems that within each shoot lies something incredibly powerful, a fierce vitality, brimming with life. Come summer, the banyan leaves are even more robust, the large leaves thickening and turning a cool deep green. The light passing through now appears emerald.

Because of this, we love to sit under the banyan tree reading stories, playing jump rope, kicking shuttlecock... When autumn arrives, the banyan flowers bloom beautifully like tiny stars, gradually turning into golden banyan fruits, fragrant and sweet, with nutty flavors like peanuts.

Time has passed by in the blink of an eye, it's almost time to leave beloved Cat Linh Primary School, almost time to leave friends and the banyan tree, but perhaps I will never forget and forever engrave in my heart the image of the banyan tree with the memories of friends from those days.

The banyan tree at my school
'Winter dons a red coat
Summer wears a green robe
When the banyan tree holds its festivity
Birds flock around it...’’

That song - always resonates within me - every time I arrive at school - looking up at the familiar, beloved banyan tree. The banyan tree at my school, still very young, its trunk upright, spreading three round branches like stacked umbrellas, looking truly whimsical.

It grows fast - very fast. The first time I saw it, it only had a layer of green leaves, but now it has grown tall, adding many new layers of leaves. It's wonderful! Every season, the banyan tree has its own unique appearance - special - incomparable to any other tree.

In summer, the mature green leaves, intertwined, cast cool shade over a corner of the courtyard. Tiny flowers - simple - unpretentious - modestly nestled among the green leaves. During playtime, the banyan tree is the ideal place for students to gather and chat. Under the scorching summer sun, the cool shade of the banyan tree is truly wonderful. The banyan tree spreads its countless friendly arms, sheltering the children from the summer heat... Then the day comes when the phoenix trees burst into red bloom.

The schoolyard is quiet, devoid of laughter, familiar shouts. The banyan tree seems to droop, seems melancholic. It stands lonely, quietly in the courtyard, looking desolate!... When the school bell rings, signaling the start of a new school year. The banyan tree seems to flourish, jubilant.

It sways its lush green leaves, interspersed with a few yellowish-green shoots, adorned with leaves beginning to turn red. It seems to don a new coat - speckled green, yellow, red, waving a thousand welcoming arms to the familiar figures, nestled among the colorful leaves, revealing the banyan fruits, golden, ripe - sweet and nutty...

Then the chilly winds come - winter has arrived. The banyan tree turns bright red. Then the red leaves gradually fall from the branches. When bidding farewell to the beloved mother tree, do those leaves feel reluctant? As for me, I still like to press those red banyan leaves, each with its own shade of color. All red, yet some are dark red, some are deep red, some are bright pink, some are mixed with deep yellow...

Observing the gradual change of colors, it's indescribably poignant. Then, when the tree is bare, stretching its bare branches to the gray leaden sky, rain pouring down, wind swirling, the banyan tree at my school still stands tall.. Then, unexpectedly, it bursts forth with tender green shoots, a tender green, brimming with life - heralding spring.

I love that tender green color the most. It gives me endless belief, love, and hope in life, which continues on forever - even in the face of adversity or disappointment. Oh! The green of life. That vitality is like awakening from a long winter's sleep. The spring of the schoolyard bursts forth with a fresh and vibrant appearance. The sleek leaves cheerfully wave, welcoming a new year, brimming with dreams, hopes...

As one season of leaves draws to a close, trees often surrender their green to the earth, embracing a golden farewell. From pale golden hues of youthful sun to deep, thoughtful gold, then gently bidding farewell to branches, drifting back to eternity. Hence, when autumn arrives, people think of yellow, reminiscent of destiny.

But there's a tree that refuses to adhere to nature's plan. It doesn't seek the pristine yellow of autumn leaves, nor does it seek autumn to shed its leaves. Instead, it turns to red and pauses for a few days in that hue before shedding. Amidst chilly winter winds, it stands out. That's the banyan tree, often planted in schoolyards to provide shade for students, second only to the phoenix tree in familiarity with students.

During the long cold days of December, the banyan begins to change color, usually towards the end of winter. From dark green, it subtly shifts to yellow before transforming into a radiant red. In this transformation, the banyan offers a surprising and intriguing experience. Amidst the cold gray winter sky, the banyan brings forth a brilliant red. Not a single green leaf remains on the tree, only the fiery red, warm and vibrant amidst the cold winter days.

We love that intense red hue, much like we love the intense passion of the Vietnamese people. Then, the red leaves fall, bidding temporary farewell to the tree, returning to nothingness after completing their leafy lives, fulfilling the task assigned to them by nature upon their birth. Bidding farewell to make way for a new generation of leaves.

With no attachment, no competition, those red leaves find tranquility because they know that, for a whole year, they have diligently provided shade for countless students. They have witnessed many joys and sorrows, many memories, sharing happiness and sorrow with the students. They feel useful, so they depart without regrets or remorse. When the leaves fall completely, not a single one remains on the tree.

The banyan's figure is considered the most beautiful. Even now, when only the stark branches remain, it proudly stretches, spreading its thin, gaunt arms to the sky as if waiting to receive the gift of time. Not inherently generous, but now the mother of time opens her arms graciously to the banyan. Other trees have to wait through the long, bitter cold of winter for new buds to be bestowed upon them, but the banyan is favored.

After the decisive action of shedding its red leaves, all the way to the end, even the youngest banyan buds are the same. Growing straight on the branches, they grow so fast that it seems like they appeared overnight, as if someone had scattered thousands of small green buds all over the branches.

Green and plentiful. Those young buds form a circle around the tree trunk. The banyan again stretches proudly, showing off its figure, showing off its colors. Then, the young buds quickly grow into leaves, standing straight and tall like gangly fingers but not unfurling, curling up like rabbit ears whenever they perk up to listen.

Isn't the banyan strange? But it's not over yet. If you pay attention, you'll see that when the first batch of buds begins to unfurl into small leaves, the banyan will give us another batch. The second batch of banyan buds is a deep pink. The banyan now wears a coat of green, dotted with those deep pink spots. It proudly stretches again.

And if we're busy, absorbed in work, forgetting to notice the tree every day, just ten, fifteen days later, when we suddenly remember the tree, look at the tree, we have to exclaim in astonishment, amazed. The leaves have fully unfurled, the canopy is like a giant green umbrella, and, above all, we feel as if it has always been this way since last year, the year before, and we don't know when. Standing tall and eternal with time, serene amidst all changes.

The summer sun shines brightly everywhere. The banyan has more opportunities to show itself to students. The banyan invites, beckons, provokes, like the craving for the fierce aspiration of youth that the days of new students are the beginning of. In that lush green canopy of banyan leaves, life and dreams overflow, never-ending.

So, young friends, journey with that green hope to the end of your dreams. And tomorrow, amidst the tumult of school memories, you'll catch a glimpse of the sturdy green canopy of the banyan. You'll see your life is more beautiful when every day you know how to grow, live fiercely, and be as useful as the seemingly indifferent banyan.

My friends admire the majestic phoenix tree, with its vibrant red blossoms, the ancient fig tree, the strawberry tree. I choose that banyan tree: small, scraggly, and solitary.

In spring, the buds sprout, then grow larger, and larger. Summer arrives, the leaves become big, verdant, shading a small patch of ground. A very small patch. In autumn, the leaves turn yellow. In winter, they turn red and fall. Leaves come and go. Only the banyan tree remains standing. Alone and stark.

Ten years ago, I embellished my essay on the banyan tree. The gist, that banyan tree is where my friends and I often played around, the tree providing shade over a corner of the yard, we would sit under its branches to study on hot summer afternoons, …

Actually, it was just it and me, me and it, in those late afternoons waiting at school for my mom's parent-teacher meetings. I've seen, admired many banyan trees. The banyan tree near my house - the tree I witnessed from its sapling days to its height matching mine, and now, as it has become a large banyan tree with three or four tiers of leaves.

The banyan tree at university, very close to my classroom window, I still sometimes gaze absentmindedly out the window, watching the autumn sunlight filter through the leaves. But I remember the banyan tree at elementary school. The small, scraggly banyan tree at the end of the playground.

It's been a long time since I've written an essay. It's been a long time since I've returned to elementary school.

Is it still there? My solitary banyan tree.

Banyan Tree Late Autumn

Autumn walks on banyan branches

Only two yellow leaves left

Yesterday, one fell

Leaves swept away by the wind

Today, the leaves see my sadness

Falling with the wind, they pass through the door

Two hands embrace the leaves to the heart

Alas, the last leaf is here!

Lonely like this body

Quietly living through rainy days and windy days…(Nguyễn Bính)

Throughout the school years, I became accustomed to the stark image of the banyan tree. I've stood under the tree many times, wondering what makes the banyan so special? The banyan never keeps the same appearance! Perhaps the changes throughout the four seasons make it special?

In autumn, the banyan leaves cover the playground, revealing green banyan fruits shaped like spinning tops. Suddenly, the fruits are golden, delicate, and not ostentatious. I've never eaten banyan fruit, but I've heard it tastes sweet and bitter, with a tough shell, yet I can still smell its gentle fragrance.

Winter arrives, the banyan tree bare, solitary. Where are the banyan leaves? The banyan stretches its scrawny arms. Looking at it, I feel a pang in my heart. When the cold winds blow, does the banyan tremble? Is the banyan cold, with such a thin, scrawny body? But inside that lean body is a strong life force. When spring arrives, the banyan awakens, sprouting shoots and leaves.

From the branch nodes, sprout small, beautiful, tiny shoots, like baby fingers. The budding shoots look like green flames lighting candles on the tree, looking very eye-catching. Every day, as I gaze at the banyan tree, I notice it changing little by little. Until the buds bloom into leaves, I realize it's summer.

Summer. The banyan leaves, as big as palm fans, form a giant green canopy, shading us during physical education classes under the sun. The banyan flowers, shining white like stars falling from the sky.

I still remember when I first entered school, the banyan tree dropped a banyan fruit onto my head as a playful greeting to a new friend. When I was sad, the tree was sad with me. The tree gently dropped leaves and a few flowers onto my shoulders. To me, the banyan tree is like a gentle, simple older brother. He doesn't know how to give me valuable material gifts, but only innocently gives me what he has.

The banyan tree is also present in the “returning autumn” species of trees. It is one of the most beautiful trees that gently ushers in autumn. I remember the song “Hanoi in autumn, cold rice trees, banyan leaves red…”. My banyan tree has become a symbol of autumn in Hanoi. I can't imagine what it would be like if my schoolyard suddenly lacked the shade of the banyan tree… What would it be like? It would be emptiness and longing…

Now I understand why the banyan tree is so special! It doesn't have stunning beauty or exquisite fragrance. The banyan is special in its own way. It cannot be mistaken for any other tree…

Among the various tree species in Vietnam, each has its own beauty and significance. But for me, perhaps the banyan tree is the most intimate companion. I love the banyan like a living being because it bears witness to so many memories of my childhood.

Since I knew how to play and frolic with my friends near home, I have seen the banyan tree standing solemnly at the head of the village near the small market for as long as I can remember. From a distance, the banyan tree looks like a giant umbrella. The trunk is thick, with protrusions and rough knots. My grandmother said those are the eyes of the banyan. The tree's roots cling deeply into the earth, steadfast through wind and rain.

Children my age often admire the red color of phoenix flowers to welcome summer. But I prefer to admire the miraculous transformation of the banyan's young shoots gradually turning into leaves – to me, that's the herald of summer. In summer, the banyan adorns itself with a green coat.

Its branches, like cool green nets, shield away the scorching sun during midday. Under the banyan's shade lies a treasure trove for the children of our small neighborhood. We often use banyan leaves as buffalo horns, clashing them together amidst joyful shouts. On bright moonlit nights, we gather to play 'tag' around the banyan trunk, having great fun…

The banyan's gnarled trunk, its roots spreading in all directions, so much vitality devoted to leaves, branches, and clusters of tiny white flowers forming fruits. The banyan basks in the sun above to keep its roots cool year-round, letting the midday sun's light filter through, creating a mystical sparkle. Within the green canopy of banyan leaves is the world of tiny sparrows, tiny swallows. Standing under the banyan, listening to their cheerful chirping, brings joy to the ears.

Farewell to summer, the banyan welcomes autumn with a thin mist and the brisk autumn sun to gently turn its green leaves to yellow. Then one day, when the cool breeze blows, the sparse rain begins, that's when the banyan drops its ripe fruits around its base. The children in my neighborhood, as soon as they return from school, come to the banyan tree to pick and eat the ripe fruits. For us, ripe banyan fruits are a delicious delicacy.

Ripe banyan fruits taste crispy, sweet, slightly sour, a bit bitter… If you've ever held a ripe banyan fruit in your hand, you'll surely never forget the sweet fragrance emanating from its shiny golden peel. When you crack open the fruit, you'll find the milky white flesh, fragrant and rich. Perhaps the banyan roots have diligently, painstakingly extracted nutrients from the earth to provide us with such delicious, sweet fruit!

The banyan leaves gradually turn from pale yellow to dark red. That's when the banyan sends its first winter greetings to humans, to plants. With each gust of wind, the banyan leaves reluctantly detach from their branches, flying into the air as if regretting something before gently landing on the ground.

Winter has truly arrived! The banyan sheds its leaves, its bare branches stark amidst the cold winter. On many misty, windy days, I feel immense pity for the banyan and silently ask: 'Banyan, it's very cold, are you very cold too?'. The dry banyan leaves rustle along the path, seeming to reply: 'Thank you, I'm fine. Autumn passes, winter arrives, and then spring will come again, we're used to it!'

Bidding farewell to the freezing winter days, spring arrives, and the banyan adorns itself with green flames. Then those green flames gradually grow, grow,… The banyan sways and stretches, gazing up at the deep blue sky. And miraculously, after just a few days of inattention, the banyan has completely changed with a fresh new green coat. The tree spreads its wide branches, swaying leaves beckoning birds to return and gather chirping joyfully. The children in our neighborhood frolic happily under the banyan, looking up at the changing colors of the banyan and anticipating a summer full of wonderful memories…

The familiar banyan tree, intertwined with childhood, with school-age. As time passes, the banyan tree still stands at the head of the small neighborhood, spreading its branches to shade and shelter generations of people. Does anyone grow up, go far away, and still remember the banyan tree? As for me, every time I hold a ripe banyan fruit in my hand, I hear a voice in the wind echoing: 'My friend, life is beautiful!' Is that the voice of the earth, of the sky, or of the beloved ancient banyan tree?…

When we talk about Hanoi, we reminisce about the vibrant cherry blossoms of Nhat Tan, the refreshing sour soup of summer easing the harsh sunlight, the gentle fragrance of milk flowers lingering with every step on the streets. And, being a Hanoian, perhaps everyone has tasted at least once the sweet aroma of banyan fruit on a chilly breeze...

Somehow, I love the banyan tree the most in autumn, when the golden autumn sun shines gently like honey, illuminating each leaf. Who wouldn't feel happy when they look beautiful? The banyan tree changing its clothes beautifully also brings joy. The banyan tree eagerly watches the footsteps of children carrying their books to school on the first day, knowing that in the evening, somehow, the children always come to the tree, diligently searching among the leaves for the bright yellow spots. There it is! In the small, delicate hands of the child, the tiny banyan fruit exudes sweetness...

The weather has turned to winter. Each cold gust of wind makes people huddle in their warm coats. The banyan tree, on the other hand, loosens up, dropping its leaves like a child playing with counting fingers. The leaves, once proud on the branches, now proudly welcome the cold wind from the North, feeling themselves dry and decisively detach and gently fall down.

Each leaf is a garment for Mother Earth nurturing the young shoots. After shedding its beautiful garment, the banyan tree is left with a rough trunk and bare branches. The banyan tree curls up to sleep peacefully to the lullaby of the wind. Sleep well, dear banyan, for spring will come and you will awaken again!...

A night for us passes quickly, just as the banyan tree's winter slumber swiftly ends. Everyone eagerly awaits the sacred moment when spring knocks on every door with hope. The little girl once picked banyan fruit, adorned in a new outfit, with a bright red 'Prosperity' sticker pasted on the tree. Does the banyan tree feel proud of its growing shoots with the 'Prosperity' sticker of the little girl?

Yes, because every day the little girl comes here to confide in the banyan tree, to rejoice one day: Has the banyan tree sprouted new shoots? Indeed, thanks to the 'Prosperity' sticker of the little girl, the banyan tree proudly displays its tiny shoots on its branches. Witnessing a baby born after the struggles of the mother. This feeling of light joy, not everyone gets to experience it. Amidst the spring, where the earth and sky are filled with an emerald green hue, the banyan tree also contributes.

Then the drizzling rain gives way to the scorching sun, the afternoon thunderstorm. The little girl, busy preparing for the end-of-year exams, rarely comes to play with the banyan tree anymore. The banyan tree feels melancholic. The young shoots have grown vigorously, spreading their branches and donning new clothes for the banyan tree.

After each bath under the heavy, cool droplets of rain, the leaves shine even brighter, a vivid green color. But who appreciates the beauty of the banyan tree when most people nowadays live like machines, rushing about, immersed in the dust of life, never stopping to see how the trees along the road have changed.

The banyan tree feels sorry for them. Why aren't they like the banyan here, resting their eyes amidst the chirping of crickets, the buzzing of cicadas? In the banyan tree, a rush of life flows through its sturdy roots deeply embedded in the earth, diligently bringing up nourishment. The banyan generously gifts this flowing sap to the small cicadas and is rewarded with a chorus of songs throughout the summer...

A day for the banyan tree equals a year in a human's life. From a small sapling, the banyan has grown, seen, heard, witnessed so much in life... The little girl who once picked banyan fruit is now grown up. Sometimes, returning to the old street corner, she still looks up with wet eyes at the banyan tree. The banyan tree leans its branches to embrace her...

That's how it is, with each generation of Hanoians born and raised. And the banyan tree, it still stands there, every autumn, dropping its golden fruits for the little girls and spreading its branches to shelter the wandering children without shelter...

I became acquainted with the banyan tree when I entered first grade and stepped into the elementary school. The banyan tree in the courtyard with its large leaves, branches stretching out almost covering the dazzling sunlight. I don't understand why banyan trees are often planted in school courtyards to such an extent; perhaps it's because of the characteristics of the tree that are suitable for schools.

The banyan tree seems to watch me grow up; whether it's primary, middle, or high school, the banyan tree always remains present in the schoolyard, as if to preserve the memories of students, my mischievous childhood memories. The banyan tree carries within itself a unique beauty that is always present regardless of the season.

At the end of summer, beginning of autumn, a time when all students return to school after a long summer vacation, I still remember the image imprinted in my mind: the banyan tree standing in a corner of the schoolyard under the somewhat subdued sun, its leaves gently swaying, likely brushed by a passing breeze. The banyan tree looked beautiful then and perhaps it was because it was right next to my classroom.

The banyan tree stood there gently as if welcoming our return after days of absence. And I don't know when on the schoolyard were those faded yellow leaves of the banyan tree, the large leaves that had fallen, withered. Seeing those leaves on the ground, I realized that at some point, the banyan tree had donned a faded yellow coat instead of the vibrant green of the early season; nevertheless, the banyan tree still looked beautiful, a melancholic beauty that made the viewer feel uneasy.

Then each gust of wind gradually grew stronger, colder, accompanied by the banyan leaves falling, covering a part of the schoolyard; the wind and the cold brought winter, and students wrapped themselves in warm coats, wearing cozy woolen scarves around their necks, looking like warm teddy bears, yet the banyan tree still stood there quietly, neither adding more clothes nor warmth, and no more leaves.

Now the banyan tree, dry and old, stands stoically with its dry, skinny branches, yet it is incredibly resilient, resisting the cold of winter, and when winter passes, the banyan tree flourishes with fresh green shoots, evoking countless vitality, the young shoots akin to a magical rebirth amidst the cold dew accompanied by the dust rain, the young shoots growing vigorously, full of vigor amidst spring.

A year with its four seasons passes quickly, experiencing all the ups and downs, yet the banyan tree still stands there like a mentor waiting for the students' maturity; summer arrives, the season of farewells and sadness, but the banyan tree seems to conceal that sadness by vigorously growing to shelter the students in the final days of summer, with its lush green foliage gradually turning darker and thicker, somewhere, the fallen banyan fruits accompanied by a few falling flowers on the schoolyard as if bidding farewell to the students.

Under that banyan tree, we, the students, have had countless beautiful memories, playing tag thanks to the tree as a shield, studying together under that tree, reading books in the corner of the tree with the gentle breeze flipping through the pages of the book,... each memory deeply imprinted, peaceful, and beautiful.

As time passes, the students gradually grow up, and then it's time to leave the beloved school to pursue their dreams, then they will have to say goodbye to the banyan trees in the classroom corner, capturing the most beautiful moments, also capturing the banyan trees in the classroom as if to commemorate a childhood filled with beautiful memories, a time of student life, suddenly remembered and forgotten, a time when remembering those tears will fall, but then somewhere, there will be laughter.