Sakura Time
Sarah Groundwater
There are many reasons to love spring. Cadbury’s Mini-Eggs are high up on the list, along with the warming of the weather, the fabulous fashions featured in all the stores, and the fact that when Oprah is on the sun is still out.
But perhaps one of the best things about spring, in my humble opinion, is sakura time. Or in plain, not pretentious, English: the cherry blossoms are popping their buds.
I mean honestly, how freaking great are cherry blossoms? They look like bunches of cotton candy. COTTON CANDY!!! I get to walk around and look at cotton candy each day. It makes me dance a little. It makes me want to paint my toenails, don my new fab peep-toe wedges and shimmy my way down the street.
I am not alone in this feeling.
The other day, I came out of the tunnel otherwise known as public transportation, and there, right out of the station, stood a row of cherry blossom trees. I felt like I was emerging from the womb and seeing light for the first time (oooo, is that a clever metaphor for Spring and the whole rebirth thing? I totally did it by accident!) Of course, I had to stop and admire that perfect shade of pale pink I wish could be made into a silk dress. But before I could admire the blossoms, I noticed the people around me doing the very same thing.
A man in a beautiful suit looked up, a smile on his face. He took a branch is his hand and brought it to his nose, stopping and smelling the delicate petals. This, in turn, made me smile. On my right a group of teeny tiny old ladies sat on a bench, giggling with each other and enjoying the spring sun on their wrinkled faces. Angst ridden teens with skateboards were taking photos with their phones. Tourists, baristas on lunch breaks, and girls like me, in spring dresses just enjoying the fresh spring air allowed life to slow down for a moment.
The pink canopy is a blossoming of hope for everyone. The warm weather and fresh air induce freshness in our beings, and transform the dull, grey, winter city into a place where old ladies can laugh with punk kids, where businessmen in suits give spare change to the homeless, where certain girls are inspired to go buy new pink dresses.
The Japanese revere sakura time. They actually spend afternoons simply viewing and appreciating the blossoms; they dress up in special kimono and eat special food. We may not be quite as formal, but I think in our very own way, the rainy city celebrates sakura time together. And for this I am truly grateful. Happy spring!
P.S. Do you know where I can get an end-of-season stash of Mini-Eggs?