Spring. Sakura. Snow.

Yesterday my website dashboard went rogue and inexplicably shut down before I was able to publish the previous post. Instead of fuming I decided to enjoy an evening walk under the sakura next door in Aoyama Cemetery. A light mist, not enough to carry an umbrella, hung in the air.

The sky was wonderfully pink and the blossoms glowed as ghostly as my sleeping neighbours.

Why don’t you walk with me?

Here the tree seems to bend over the grave markers like a guardian spirit.

Looking west toward my Tokyo home tucked in the shadow of the distinctively curved building. I can always and easily find home from any of the famed city viewpoints.

This morning when I pulled back the drapes and the sheer curtains, I was surprised by snow. Though in hindsight I should not have been. Pink skies often signal snow.

After breakfast, noting that it was sticking, I bundled up and went out to capture a few shots.

I’ve seen snow on sakura only twice before. First at UBC’s Nitobe Garden and a second time in Thunderbird Plaza, Abbotsford.

Glorious. I remember the crows’ chorus: Wow! Wow! Wow!

The fragile, fleeting nature of life underscores all loss in ethereal petals about to let loose on the wind.  Mono no aware. The pathos of things. The impermanence of things.

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