In just about two weeks, the thousands of cherry trees that surround the Tidal Basin at the foot of the Jefferson Memorial reach their peak blooming season. If you’re in, or near, or can get to Washington, D.C., you owe it to your soul to be there. This year marks the 94th year that my lovely city will celebrate the original gift of 3,000 flowering cherry trees from the people of Tokyo to the people of Washington, D.C.
As is true of so many sacred spaces, if you haven’t been, you can’t really understand what it is that makes the cherry blossoms so special. I’ve seen them under a full moon on a night so warm you wanted to find a soft spot and sleep on the blossoms all night long if only for the pleasure of waking up covered by a snow of pink/white petals. I’ve seen them in the snow, on a grey day when I flew back from a several-week long business trip to LA and had the cab driver take me straight from National Air Port to the Tidal Basin. I’ve seen them in the late afternoon, when our case finished early and my colleague and I walked the Tidal Basin -- he in a suit and tie and I in my heels and a suit -- under a perfect blue sky. I’ve seen them on a cold windy day when I met my son and daughter-in-law to take my first long walk after breaking my ankle. And, most often, I’ve seen them very early in the morning, when I get up before the sun and wander among the blossoms while the sun comes up and lovers and families spread their picnic breakfasts of bagels, mimosas, strawberries, and chocolates under the flowering trees.
Early morning is often the least crowded time: just a few joggers, one or two skaters, the breakfast picnicers, and me. But there’s one really good reason to go in the late afternoon. There is one very short half-minute that occurs at just the moment when the temperature stops holding constant and begins to drop, usually just before the sun actually sets. At that moment, the millions of cherry blossoms all give up their fragrance, a fragrance so subtle that, absent such an immense mass of blooms, you’d never notice it. When you realize that you’re smelling cherry blossoms, it’s magic and you have to stop and stand still in order to be that blessed, that privileged, the recipient of the active grace of so much pleasure.
8 comments:
What a nice post!
Graves is a pustule, and his legacy will be that of all pustules: slight scarring, general health recovered after acute episode.
Sorry about the last comment. It was intended as a response the following post.
But just while I'm here, this "As is true of so many sacred spaces, if you haven’t been, you can’t really understand what it is that makes the cherry blossoms so special." is yet more crap from our hostess.
I've been there. It's a bunch of trees. The Japanese tried to take over our country by military means. We creamed them. Our ideas (enlightenment, scientific objectivity, democracy) are better than theirs were. Hereditary monarchy sucks. Corporatist fascism sucks.
Shove your magic up your ass. You're stupid.
we had a cherry tree in the back yard. i know that's nothing like the multitude in DC. but your post was nostalgic for me.
i shot a bird in that tree, a baltimore oriole. i'm not against hunting, but i was young and shot that bird out of plain meaness, and a lust to kill. i still remember the blossoms, and the blood. maybe the only thing i've ever felt guilty about in my life.
it's kind of magic your post brought that thought back to me.
maybe anonymous should think about that. stupid is as stupid does.
Anonymous masturbates to the Objectivist Newsletter.
I wonder if the DCers who admire the cherry blossoms each year know its true meaning in Japanese culture: the transitory beauty of the present moment?
Suggestion:
you may not be able to prevent Anonymous trolling, but I suggest word-verification to prevent comment spam (and to slow trolls down).
I remember when we first went to DC. I was about 7 and was amazed at the huge buildings, monuments, and the White House (got to pet LBJ's beagles too!!!)
The most unforgettable thing was standing under those lovely old trees as the petals fell around us like snow. I loved them so much I planted trees very much like them, but native for Indiana, in my new forest. Over 300 crab apple trees will some day produce the same show as those grand trees in DC. I just hope I am around to stand under them as the petals fall.
G in INdiana
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