Many thanks to Frank for this week’s dVerse, which asks us to write about Cherry Blossoms. As those of you who follow my blog may remember, this past January our ornamental cherry that is nearly 30 years old took a hit with the wet snowstorm that arrive just after New Year’s. She’s trying to thrive again. ❤️
Cherry Blossom Tree
I love trees the way some women love jewelry or shoes. And I dearly love my ornamental cherry tree that has over the years become more and more majestic just as wine reputes to be better and better. In late March, she blooms her pinkish-hued white flowers held aloft, like the merest of cherry-tinged snow in temperate weather, until, as fate and weather would dictate, a windy rainstorm sweeps the petals away onto the driveway, the windshields of the cars where they would adhere like adhesive. Many a time I drive to work in a cherry blossom car. A spring float in a one car parade.
Slightly after New Year’s a wet snowstorm struck while I was away. Upon return, I saw that one significant branch of the cherry tree rested against our front door. It was evening so I didn’t see all of the damage. I felt heartbreak. Certainly, there are horrific occurrences in our world and maybe that’s why I rely on the beauty and power of nature to carry me through. There’s strength and beauty in nature that acts as a soul generator. I don’t expect everyone to understand. I don’t hear the words, but I suppose there’s an echo: it’s just a tree, get over it already.
It’s blooming now. Ragged, jagged, we’ve tried to mend a break with screws and ties. Last year’s glory is halved but still, my tree is resplendent. There are gaps and a certain lop-sidedness, but she’s graced and beautiful. Long may she live.
Spring’s glorious snow
radiant cherry blossom flowers.
A robin preens.