At first when they came, there were no loud announcements, no rallying cries. Quietly, one by one, they sprouted. No concerted efforts, just tiny sightings here and there, breadcrumbs left sprinkled along the river, hinting to a spring defrosting, arriving.
Then, as if overnight, they all bloom. And bloom in the biggest yet most understated way, they do. Whole trees fully crowned in snow-white clouds, sunlight dappling through where these clouds parted, swaying gently to the cool spring breeze, against a backdrop of pale blue skies. Like pure white cotton candy on a stick, it was a sweet treat for the eyes. And that white, wow that white. Such refined elegance, such sophisticated simplicity. I don't think I ever saw that in nature elsewhere, or was ever this moved. It's no wonder it inspired poets and painters through time.
Then, it gets warmer. It rained. It rained all day yesterday, you see. And it's such a cold, cold morning. So much that the thick moist air freezes onto you as you walk. By now, they all look kind of sad, drooping downwards from the weight of the moisture. No beauty holds itself under such rain and cold, no matter how natural and mighty.
It's definitely spring now. Rain for a day or two, and then sun. Oh the sun. Warm and delicious to the touch, like a being offered a warm cup of tea by your mother, after being out in the cold all day. Warm in hands and heart. The sun dries out the rain, and lo and behold, they are all fluffy and nice again. Strangely, slightly pink as well, wrapped around new sprouts of green leaves. As if, blushing from a hot shower, wrapped in a towel.
And as though celebrating the arrival of spring, the coming of a new season, a new year, they shed some of their petals with the aid of the wind. Like confetti, celebrating, cheering, to a new season of life.