It is the season of cherry blossoms in Japan. In north-eastern Kyoto, the trees line the river in great plumes of pink and cast a faint scent to the air. Last year, the blossoms were quite scarce due to a late frost and abundant rains, but this year, the weather was just right, and the blossoms have burst in the thousands, all at once, to transform the city with blankets of petals along the road and in the air. Biking to work recently has been rather amazing, and almost surreal. My bike's tires roll along a bridal's trail of fragile white petals with just a kiss of pink at one end and under the black bark and leafless but full-blossomed boughs of the cherry trees. When the wind picks up, their fragrance fills my nose and calms my nerves, while the petals dance on the air's currents. It is a beautiful, fleeting week of blooms in Kyoto.
In particular, on Saturday last week, the blossoms near our old school location were beautiful. As we moved boxes to the new location, back and forth on our bicycles, I was treated to the sight of the pink swirls along the road's edge again and again. At one point, it almost got corny, when one of our teachers was running down the road in a light jog and three small sparrows went flying in a playful trail around him. It was the quintessential moment of the Japanese cherry blossom season. I'm really happy that I was able to experience them properly this year, despite being so busy. By Sunday, half of the trees had already lost all of their blossoms.
