what cherry blossoms mean to me

Cherry blossoms break my heart. They bloom with all the hope and rejuvenation I want from spring, and then they fall, in clumps and one by one, and forge a descent that, like some tears down the lines of some faces, are so beautiful they break your heart.

The first time I experienced cherry blossoms was in Iwakuni, Japan. I lived 45 minutes away by train from the Kentaik-yo Bridge, one of the most beautiful spots in all of Japan to see the blossoms in bloom and participate in "hanami," or the picnic and sake-filled celebration of the new season. I went so many times to Iwakuni that year I lived there. The blossoms only stay in bloom for a week - depending on the weather, maybe a little less, or in a gracious year, maybe a few days more. I went once before they were fully bloomed and twice while they were in bloom, and I could have gone 100 times more. I could have camped under them and let the pink petals float down on me like the most gentle rain shower, and I would have been heartbroken and joyous.

One of my karate teachers - a woman who spoke little English but with whom I communicated and shared so much despite - took me to Kudamatsu, a small, neighboring town to ours, one night after class. It was 9:00 or 10:00pm. She turned off the ignition in her small car outside of a park. Lanterns lit the way, strung from tree to tree. A young couple kissed beneath one tree, stealing moments long after the day's hanami ended.

We walked mostly in silence, but Iwamoto-san spoke up once, to tell me, "This is the nature of cherry blossoms."

I said wistfully that I wish they'd live longer than a week. "We like to fall as fast as they bloom," she told me.

Japanese people treasure tradition, respect, dignity, and pride. But when the cherry blossoms bloom, they set all that aside and embrace frivolity -  they laugh and smile, a sight I didn't see very often, and they celebrate the blossoms. The beer and sake and food they bring to enjoy beneath the blossoms represents a moment in every year when nothing else matters but appreciating beauty and nature's art.

I think I'm a typical westerner when it comes to wanting gratification. I want it fast, and I want it often, and I want it prolonged. That's our culture, that's rooted in our values of capitalism and advancement and reaping the rewards- whether it be food or beauty, we want more. But the cherry blossoms don't give us that. They offer us a blink of gratification, and then they die.

The nature of cherry blossoms - beauty so profound and death so sudden - teaches me to notice and seek out and appreciate the precious few days that mark winter's change into spring. The blossoms keep me accountable, too, for remembering Japan, and what I learned there, and my difficult path towards understanding a culture so different from my own.

But mostly the cherry blossoms break my heart with their beauty and transience, and I spend another year waiting for them to bloom again.

It's with wonder and awe that I say that I get to live in D.C. in the Spring - a city blooming with cherry blossoms as I type this. As a token of kindness and a mark of friendship, Japan donated cherry blossom trees to D.C. many years ago.Today, the most iconic image of them is along the National Mall and Tidal Basin. But I wanted to show you where I've seen and loved them this Spring. 

 1. top of the post - the White House 2. a mural depicting cherry blossoms on Barracks Row SE 3. the view from Cantina Marina, on the SW waterfront 4/5/6. a home near my home in upper NW (Cleveland Park) 7. my street (Porter, NW) **the ones in NW may not all be cherry blossoms, but they're beautiful nonetheless