It is very nearly Sakura season again in Japan, which has me thinking of this trip we took to Kamakura the first time we came to Japan.
We were heading for the main street where there is a two kilometer stretch of boulevard lined with cherry trees and I took this photo on the train platform. Originally, it was the poster that drew my attention, looking so like what we had come to see. In retrospect, though, it’s the likeness of the woman in the poster to the woman on the platform that makes me smile. You know, life and art in mutual imitation.
Japanese roses, also called Camelias, grow along the edge of the foreigners’ cemetery in Yokohama. I don’t understand the patterns of their blooming, only that it happens a couple of times a year. One of these times coincides roughly with the blooming of the cherry trees. Someone told me that the time in which the sakura are most beautiful is not the moment of full bloom (though admittedly that’s pretty spectacular), but the moment just after, as the blossoms are beginning to fade and fall from the trees like snow. When I was walking home from school one day, I happened to look down along the cemetery road and saw these fallen camelias and wind-blown sakura petals, perfect in their imperfection.