It happens in an instant. One day, the branches are bare—the next, the world is painted in a soft pink and white landscape. As the air shifts, carrying whispers of a fleeting season, people begin to gather. In parks, along riverbanks, beneath temple eaves, they sit together, watching as the blossoms unfold. Blankets spread, meals shared, and laughter which drifts between the trees. Only for a brief moment, then it's gone again, as the cherry blossoms unfold.
Hanami is a tradition that celebrates beauty at its most fragile. For centuries, people have gathered not just to see the blossoms, but to be reminded that everything, no matter how breathtaking, is temporary. The petals drift gently to the ground— a silent invitation to pause, to reflect, to appreciate the world's beauty, as we so often forget. Because just as the trees reach their peak, the flowers have already begun to fall.
