Story: Winlinh
Photos: Tue Lam

Hanoi has entered the height of autumn. In the corner of a yard, an abundance of milk flowers is falling. Their fragrance lingers in the gentle autumn breeze – rich yet delicate – stirring a vague, wistful feeling. The golden sunlight softens, and the breezes turn as thin as threads of smoke, invisible yet awakening a whole realm of sensations. Suddenly, one feels nostalgic for the season, though it is already here, fully present.

An autumn morning on Phan Dinh Phung Street

I have long been bound to Hanoi through serene autumn nights and eager misty mornings, walking each day through familiar streets. My feet have memorized every worn brick and every kind tree root imbued with decades of memories. To step into a street often feels like entering a village. Streets lie so close that just a few strides across a narrow lane bring you to the opposite pavement. The houses on the facing streets are near enough for a soft call to reach them. Hanoi’s 36 guild streets still retain glimpses of the capital’s late 19th and early 20th century charm: colonial villas painted in warm yellows with distinctive green shutters, moss-covered red-tiled roofs, and narrow tube houses with deep interiors. Faced with this old Kinh Ky – Ke Cho atmosphere, those who come here never wish to leave.

Rows of flags decorate a corner of Hang Ma Street

Hanoi’s autumn is the season of beloved flavors. Gifts of the earth arrive in people’s hands, weaving themselves into every taste and making the season all the more poetic. Who could forget young rice from Vong village eaten with ripe bananas in the cool breeze? Young rice is greener in autumn, lending its fragrance to the season. Autumn lingers in golden chrysanthemums, rustles through dry almond leaves, sharpens in the last tart dracontomelon fruit, and softens in the sweetness of ripe persimmons.

On a gentle day in the city, I sit with a cup of coffee and watch nature unfold. Grass glows bright green beside clusters of flowers in bloom. Clear sunlight filters through the eaves, spilling softly onto the steps. Golden beams dance across the ground, stirred by leaves fluttering in the breeze. In the corner, petunias tremble with morning dew. Gardenias lift their thick, dark leaves to greet the sun. The starfruit tree still bears a few tiny purple blossoms. Bougainvillea bursts into radiant bloom. The space feels suspended, pierced only by the quiet breath of passing time.

Luscious ripe persimmons

Yet autumn is always fleeting, always elusive. Those who love autumn in Hanoi cannot help but feel regret as the season slips away and the first winter winds sweep through the streets. In the mellow autumn light, people turn to familiar rituals – drifting into reflection, dreaming of gentle days, recalling the past, and kindling new plans for the road ahead.

A field of golden flowers in the autumn light

Endless autumn breezes still drift through the bustling streets. Passersby lose track of their destination, distracted by the sight of moss-covered rooftops weathered by sun and rain, or by fledgling birds hopping playfully along electric wires. Soon enough, autumn will be a memory, its cool, wistful winds yielding to the icy northeast monsoon. I have often wished the season might linger, yet remind myself that if it stayed too long, it would lose its essence. Autumn must remain autumn – shy, elusive, and fragile – so that each farewell leaves us with traces of longing.