The brown chò tree and the waltz in the Saigon breeze.

Not as vibrant red as the flamboyant tree blossoms in the summer sun, nor as fragrant as the milk flower, the brown leaves of the Shorea tree leave a deep impression on people's hearts with their dreamy, swirling dance in the wind. Once a year in Saigon, the swirling leaves of the Shorea tree signal the arrival of summer, a season of memories about to return.

Brown chò tree - a simple "specialty" of Saigon.

The brown chò tree, also known as the black star tree, originates from India and is cultivated in many tropical countries, including Vietnam.

The flowers of the brown chò tree grow in clusters of light brown. When the flowers wither, the petals turn a darker brown and are dried by the sun before being tossed and spun in the wind. Although they can be found along many streets in Saigon, people only truly appreciate the beauty of the brown chò tree when the flowers begin to fall.

Some have likened summer here, without the brown cassia blossoms, to a sky without streaks of sunshine. The best time to appreciate the beauty of the swirling cassia blossoms is in the early morning or late afternoon.

Imagine strolling slowly along the sidewalk before the sun casts its golden hues, savoring the sweet tranquility of the city streets, and immersing yourself in the vast expanse filled with twinkling stars. At this moment, the usual hustle and bustle of Saigon seems to vanish, giving way to a surprisingly gentle and simple charm.

Brown chrysanthemums and the waltz in the wind

People often say Saigon only has two seasons: sunny and rainy. After the hot, humid season comes the rainy season with its floods; there's no romantic season at all. But few know that Saigon also has a very poetic transitional period between seasons: the season of the brown chò tree swaying in the wind.

The brown chò tree typically blooms in November and December, and its fruits ripen and fall in April and May. Both periods create a romantic scene in Saigon. Throughout streets like Le Quy Don, Nguyen Thi Minh Khai, and the area around Notre Dame Cathedral, brown chò trees are always scattered on windy days.

The brown chò tree has no scent, no color, no taste, yet it captivates and enchants the heart. It is then that a romantic breeze carries them from their high branches, and the brown chò trees grasp the wind's hand, spinning to a passionate waltz.

The brown chò tree heralds the season of memories.

For many Saigonese, the season when the seeds of the Shorea tree fall is also a season of memories. Adults recall their innocent childhood years, gathering as many seeds as possible with their friends, then running up to the highest floors to drop them down, dreamily watching the Shorea tree's seeds fluttering in the wind.

Those young people, now watching the falling leaves of the chò tree, are filled with nostalgia for their innocent school days, when one of them would park their bicycle by the roadside, bend down to pick the most beautiful chò seed, and then give it to the one they loved.

At the age of eighteen or twenty, those simple gifts were enough to make hearts flutter. But then the following summer, the dried chò fruit remained in the desk drawer, while that person was gone. A naive, innocent love affair, like the dance of the chò fruit in the wind, was full of lingering feelings but also quickly faded.

The photos used in this article belong to travel blogger Ngo Tran Hai An (Quỷ Cốc Tử), who captured the moment of brown chò leaves in the early morning on some streets of Saigon. In a post on his personal Facebook page, he said he loves the feeling of wandering through the central streets of Saigon in the early morning, looking up to admire the swirling chò leaves, then bending down to stroll along the carpets of chò leaves that cover the roads.

"As a photographer, I also enjoy observing the Chò tree through the lens, where everything around is in darkness except for the Chò tree, which shines brightly. I capture the most beautiful moments of the Chò tree to admire and share with you here. As a small token of gratitude for our fortunate encounter. (We are friends, and so is the Chò tree)" - wrote Hai An.

Let's admire some more photos of the brown storks he took:

Huyen Chau