Steve and I just flew off for a weekend visit to DC. The goal was to spend some time with his friends Cynthia and Phillipe, and it just so happened that the weekend was also the pinnacle of "cherry blossom season".

Since I had seen the trees from above as the plane made its descent into Washington National, I was not particularly excited to go to the tidal pool (is that what it is called?) to see them up close....after all, a tree is a tree is a tree. Right?

Cynthia was insistent. I was insistent that a museum visit had to occur first, so we headed off to the Hirshhorn. I had phoned ahead so that we would arrive in time for the guided tour. The day was beautiful and sunny, but no amount of warmth would detract me from the goal! MUSEUMS!!!!

The tour was completely enjoyable, as we wound our way around the inside of the museum. Those of you who have been there already know it is shaped like a donut. There is a hole in the middle. The inside of the gallery is glass, which looks out into the centre, and a circular water fountain. This time the guide pointed out that the fountain has a donut like centre hole as well, but that the hole is "off centre". She also told us that the building is shaped like the fountain....that is, it is not a perfect donut....the "hole" is off centre. In other words, the width of the building is narrower on one side than on the other. Once she pointed that out, you could see the change as we walked through the building. On the third floor, there is one area where the windows looks "outside" rather than "to the centre".

In this gallery, the windows stretch across a cicular expanse, giving you an unobstructed view of the entire Mall. From this vantage point, you can see the number of round domes dotting the tops of buildings....these circles were the inspiration for the guy who designed the Hirshorn. The view was wonderful. We also got an advance look at the dark and threatening clouds that were filling the sky. Not moments later, the clouds broke. Rain and wind stormed through, sending people running for cover. Garbage cans carried on gusts of air went tumbling after them. I enjoyed the storm from inside the building. I was not sure the people outside were quite so happy.

The tour ended, the rains finally eased back to a misting sprinkle. After some debate, and a few signs of blue breaking through the clouds, Cynthia convinced us that we had to go see the cherry trees. I was glad she had been so insistent.

Have you all seen the cherry trees there in full bloom? First off, I had no clue that Japan had sent 3,800 of these trees as a gift after the war. That is a lot of trees. They run along the edge of the tidal pool.....so you can walk around a lake, surrounded by the white billows of tree.

Walking under them was a completely different experience than flying over them. First of all, I was reminded of all the cherry trees I had seen in Japanese art. I had always assumed that they were quite stylized in those paintings. I was surprised to see that the trees actually looked remarkably like the paintings. I was also shocked by the lack of green. Somehow, I though the blossoms were additions to a primarily green tree. Nope. It was a conbination of dark (sometimes seeming almost black) branches and blossoms ranging from pure white to the faintest hints of pink. The blossoms completely covered the trees. The petals are only the size of a pinky fingernail. The wind had carried some the trees, leaving the ground beneath your feet looking like a carpet of confetti.

The water along the edges of the pool was also littered with this strange floating carpet of white and pink. The ground was wet with the puddles left by the rain, and the drenching had filled the air with not only that wonderful post-storm smell, but also with the delicate scent of the cherry blossoms. If you breathed deeply enough, you felt you could almost taste it. Standing under the trees and looking up, you could catch moments of blue sky in between the dark of the branches and the white of the blossoms. Sometimes you would lose a sense of three dimensional perspective, and the air above took on a flatness of a piece of marvellously colored woven fabric.

The storm had taken a toll of some of the trees. There were several large branches that had broken. Some of thee trees had been split nearly in half. Tree crews had already arrived with saw, and were attempting to cut off some of the more serious damage. I began to notice that many of the older trees seemed to carry scars of such past damage. I also began to see how new branches and growth had emerged out of and around locations of amputation. Now I could see many places where branches seemed to be located at perpendicular angles, or in directions that seemed "unnatural". I could see that what I had thought was stylization in japanese prints might have rather been a capturing of a real tree....a tree that had lived through similar experiences of excision and damage, and which had grown around the wound. At this point, the younger and more "perfect" trees began to look less interesting. I wondered what they would look like as they aged. How would they incorporate the scars that are part of the process of living?

I began to be very envious of the people who live in the city. I imagine that a person who spent their lunch wandering around the pool would come to see the trees as individuals, each with their own shape and personality. I could happily have spent the rest of the weekend under the trees. but now.....back to the last two weeks of classes and Fredricton.

Wishing all had been in DC with me,

Rebecca