Despite the rain, the cherry blossom in Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden here in Tokyo is very beautiful – all 1500 trees’ worth.
More hanafubuki than hanami today – watching the petals fall on the wet ground rather than picnicking beneath the boughs.
Part of the significance of the cherry blossom for the Japanese is the way it embodies transience, the ah-ness of things. There’s something melancholy about rain and it added to that sense of fragility and fleetingness.
Especially as I am nothing if not transitional just now. Dropping about ten degrees is one of the ways I’m feeling it. Moving from Autumn to Spring doesn’t sound as if it should involve getting colder, does it?