Sakura, the Japanese cherry blossom festival, was in full bloom (see what I did there?) three weeks ago. Adam and I watched with barely disguised envy as daily reports showed the beauty and fleetingness of the blossoms marching relentlessly across the island of Japan oblivious to our fervent hopes that the blooms would, somehow, last until we arrived.
Yes, they have daily blossom reports here, even an entire website dedicated to where to see the best blooms. As one blogger put it: the Japanese love the change of seasons, but especially Sakura.
Knowing how silly it is to place all your bets on catching a glimpse of a natural phenomenon we resigned ourselves to be content with the predicted unseasonably warm weather – which caused the early blooms afterall – and the happy knowledge that after blossoms comes that beautiful spring shade of green.
All in all that ain’t too shabby.
How nice it was, while exploring the Imperial Gardens, to round a corner and spy the barest hint of pink among baby-green leaves on a single, solitary tree.
These hardy little pink soldiers seemed to have hung on – just for us. Despite the unseasonable change in weather, despite the wind and rain, this little tree decided to bloom at the *ahem* correct time. All other Japanese Cherry Trees: take note of your admirable companion.