I sat by the riverbank, watching a stork family flying back to their nest after a hard-working day. To my astonishment, a kingfisher landed beside me, his feathers shimmering like the pages of a timeless book. When I was five, what thrilled me most wasn't watching cartoons like other children in my village. My great excitement came during power outages at night. Those evenings, my family would gather in our house yard, under the vast canopy of stars, with fireflies dancing in the dark. I would nestle under my aunt's arm, listening intently as her voice breathed life into tales of fables and satire. She told the same stories countless times, but they never grew old. I would giggle, laugh, and eventually drift to sleep, dreaming of a world where all beings on Earth can talk to each other, where I can fly like a bird, and where every creature holds a piece of the universe's wisdom waiting for me to explore. Reading Wild Wise Weird: The Kingfisher Story Collection by Quan-Hoang Vuong (2024) brought me back to those nights. The book, much like my aunt's stories, captures the transience of life, those ephemeral moments that linger long after they have passed. It made me feel like I was sitting by a riverbank, no longer just an observer of his bird village but as someone in dialogue with the kingfisher, learning layers of wisdom in each story his masterpiece offers.
Thi Mai Anh Tran (Thu,) studied this question.