Blossoms Remembered
It’s been years since I’ve missed seeing D.C.’s famous cherry blossoms. It’s one of my own personal rites of spring — walking beneath the massed pink flowers, petals falling gently on our heads, seeing the city transformed.
There are always crowds: picnickers, photographers, little kids who stray too close to the Tidal Basin. Many people dress up for the occasion, and it’s a favorite for engagement shoots. But the clamor and craziness of it is part of the experience, as are all the times I’ve gone before with my family and with my parents years ago. Those earlier visits are with me each new year when I brave the crowds to see the blossoms again.
This year there are no tourists. Roads are blocked off discouraging congregation. Those who venture down are masked and gloved. They’re maintaining social distance. I will not be one of them.
But I can imagine what it’s like, can take a virtual walk beneath the trees.