While my allergies distinctly oppose this time of year, my eyes and heart have always been caught up in the joy of spring, the idea of life bursting forth being manifested in the blossoms in my region.
I have a particular fascination with cherry blossom trees. I typically despise pink, its a result of being forced to live in room that looked like pink threw up all over it. But there is something about cherry blossom trees that remind me of cotton candy–perhaps one childhood memory triumphing over another.
I know it’s almost time for them when the stinky fish-smelling Bradford pear trees begin to blossom and make it nearly impossible to go outside. It’s happened sooner this year because of the unseasonably warm weather… but I don’t care. Eight years ago, I went to visit a friend in DC just in time for the cherry blossom festival…it was like a fairy land. If I can find my pick of it, I’ll add it later. Until then, enjoy my cotton-candy trees from my local area.