Oh how I love Cherry Blossom. This post is dedicated to round posies of loveliness. It is probably one of those posts that will make only me happy, but hey! Who knows!
Cherry blossom trees are currently laden with blooms, for the moment in full bloom, but that moment is short. Cherry blossom is to be indulged in and obsessed over, like a teenage crush. Glorious and wonderful it blooms and within a few days is falling like confetti, crumpled under foot, tiny broken hearts.
There is a square in Bristol with three fabulous trees. A week ago, I stood below big blousey pinkness, thousands of flowers above me the wind drifted through the trees and they all sat firmly on the branches. A week later, under the same trees the gutters are pink and pink petals float away from the trees on the slightest breeze.
Up close there is a delicate feminine softness to cherry blossom. Stand back and the trees look like on drag queens, wrapped in heavy pom poms of pinkness, garish, almost too pink. Like candyfloss, a guilty pleasure of spun sugary sweetness.
I’m happy to admit I adore both candy floss and cherry blossom. I suspect my obsession with pink blossom, began in childhood walking home from school via ‘Cherry Tree walk’, at that age when pink equaled all things pretty. As a teenager I lost interest. Years later, when living in the North, my house was around the corner from a road named after a pit village in Rotherham but lined with the sweetest pink cherry blossom trees, in May they formed a pink tunnel between Victorian terraces. Heralding the end of grey, gloomy winter and I came, again, to look forward to the transformation the trees made.
You cannot fail to smile at cherry tree in full blossom, it is as if carnival has come to town and the trees have been decorated especially. In Japan it’s a symbol of the transience of life. Over all too quick. Which is a bit gloomy. For me, it represents the hedonism of spring, the pursuit of pleasure in longer days and warmer weather, a reminder to indulge in nature and life. Cherry blossom is something to pause and behold while it lasts.
There is a cherry tree behind our house, a few garden up. Its branches rise skyward. It is perfectly situated to collect the best of the evening light, golden pink it glows. On the best days contrasted against a blue sky background. Since writing this, it has rained and rained and I’ve watched most of the blossom come loose. There is something just a pretty about blossom scattered pavements, grey turned to pink, as if the biggest wedding ever has just passed by.
Joining with Annie at Fable and Folk. How Does Your Garden Grow.