Spring
in Japan means cherry blossoms. The
calendar may say spring, but it is not spring until the cherry blossoms
emerge. Sometimes they are early,
sometimes later. But always they signal
spring. This signal of spring is fleeting.
Last week the cherry blossoms hit their peak. The trees seemed heavy with blossoms that
delicately fluttered in the breeze. Here
and there were delicate pink blossoms and an occasional deep pink blossomed
tree. I was outside three days last week.
Wednesday I rode in the car under arches of cherry trees in full bloom,
making a cherry blossom tunnel. Thursday I was volunteering at a daycare
facility, and we played at a park surrounded by trees festooned in cherry
blossoms. Friday I went horseback riding
among the blossoms. The horse I rode is
tall so astride the horse I was surrounded by blooms to peer through the
flowers to see a clear blue sky. What
beauty! What an Artist who planned and
crafted it all. I cannot begin to take it in, much less express it.
Now
the bright green leaves are pushing the dainty pink flowers away to make their
bold entrance. This year’s signal of
spring is passing away to make room for other glories. This year’s spectacle has drawn to a
close. But I take heart, for next year’s
production is already in the making. I
praise you, Lord, for letting me visit your private gallery. I eagerly await the next showing.
