Shoes, Ships, and Sealing Wax

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.

Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.

And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.

~A.E. Housman

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Carpe diem, if I remember freshman English.

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My usual annual cherry tree post is to complain about the tourists, but I'm down this week. The stupid swan. Another rat. Another person.

My mom was telling me about a neighbor; their pet mouse died last week. The little girl is three or four, first pet death. At her request, they buried the mouse under a bush that attracts butterflies. The little girl said she likes to watch the butterflies and thinks the mouse will, too. And when she sees the butterflies now, she will remember her mouse.

My grandparents' street was lined with cherry trees. When we were little, my sister and I used to go out and play in the "snow," the petals as they fell.

It's a nice thought, that the mouse will see the butterflies, that my grandfather will see me brushing cherry petals out of my hair. It works if you believe in Easter, or if you are three.

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The cherry blossoms do come back every year. Blink and you might miss them...a good rain, a hard wind, stuck inside with allergies, and next thing you know, they cherry is just another tree with green leaves coming in. And it will bloom again next spring, but, well, you know.

I don't miss the chance to appreciate a blooming cherry tree.

Posted by Nic at March 31, 2007 07:29 PM | TrackBack