Sakura in the rain

It poured the day I was invited to see the Shiro-fugen Cherry Blossoms. For a moment it seemed like the rain had abated, but when I headed out the door I had to duck under where it flowed off the roof. It’s the west coast. One expects wet.

The garden in the rain felt fresh and inviting. This is a two-acre oasis in the midst of the neighbourhood and I’m grateful to have been invited into the quiet beauty. Stepping through the gate from the road is like stepping over a threshold. Every time I do, and close the gate behind me, I just stand for a moment and breathe.

Of course the garden in Spring is in its glory. This is the second round of Cherry Blossoms. I love this time when the blossoms from the early trees have fallen and these ones are peak. Both fresh and fallen are so beautiful.

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​Today I stood beneath the petalled branches listening to the rain fall. Then kicked off my sandals and walked the garden. Most of the green is moss rather than grass. Plush, thick, cushiony moss and I wonder why anyone bothers with lawns. This is so much nicer under the feet. I felt like a parched plant welcoming rain, as if I was absorbing the moisture straight through my feet. Beauty quenched my soul and water my arid body.

I don’t know exactly where I’m going with this, except to express gratitude. For welcoming neighbours, this small bit of lush west coast growth teaming with ducks, song-birds, eagles, squirrels, insects and blossoms, and a moment of refreshment.  ​

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