We don’t have to drive to DC to see cherry blossoms.  We simply look out our windows.  Or go out on the screened porch.  Or walk down the street.   

The views are not quite as grand and sweeping as in DC.   We have no national monuments in our neighborhood.  Only ordinary houses and cars.  We don’t have thousands of cherry trees.  But we do have quite a few, and they are, thankfully, easily accessible and simply waiting to be appreciated. 

The short-lived blooming season is nearly over for trees of the pale pink Yoshino variety.  Clouds of delicate petals swirl in the air with every breeze and float down to dot the greening grass like snow.  As my neighbor drives past my window, her car appears to be covered in confetti. 

 

But cherry blossom time continues, as the darker pink Kwanzan variety trees are now beginning to bloom.  To follow in the lineup are the other faithful superstars of spring:  the dogwoods, lilacs, azaleas, peonies and roses.  They’re patiently waiting in the wings, rehearsing their parts, listening for cues.  They’ll play their roles with charisma, dignity and flair.  And when their brief sensational season ends, they’ll be quietly, diligently preparing for next year’s show.  How reassuring.