In a Perfect World


Sometimes you can’t be any happier. With our long, cold spell, I had no expectations of seeing any cherry blossoms when I went to see how the cherry buds were faring. I was sure it would be April before they would bloom. But I looked up and there they were, open blossoms, dancing in the spring breeze, dazzling against a cobalt-blue sky.



In a perfect world, the first cherry blossoms would make us stop everything we are doing, call into work and say, “I’m on vacation for the next few weeks. The cherry trees are in bloom.” We’d spend all day lying under the trees and clap each new blossom that opened. Or you could close your eyes, take a nap, and count how many more blossoms opened while you slept bathed in the sweet fragrance of cherry blossoms. And after two weeks or three, when the blooms were over, we’d lie under the trees and let the falling snow of cherry blossom petals bury us in pure joy.

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