Cherry Blossoms

Yesterday, I traveled down to Washington, D.C, hoping to see the cherry blossoms with my daughter.

The Cherry Blossom Festival was in full swing.  Tons and tons of tourists lined the Tidal Basin.  The reflecting pool was surrounded by people.  The line to get into the National Archives was over an hour long.

However, try as we might, we couldn't find open cherry blossoms anywhere.  Right as you enter Washington from Virginia, there is a beautiful garden that is usually full of tulips this time of year.  We found ten tulips in bloom - and hundreds- literally hundreds - of green tulilp foliage that was about 6 inches tall.  If we looked closely, we could see the tulip bud still wedged, deep inside of the greenery, waiting.

The weather in the Mid-Atlantic Region has been unseasonably cold.  We had snow last week.  Snow in March is practically unheard of around here.  Even stranger, this was our second March snowstorm. I think the tulilp bulbs are hiding so far deep down in the tulip greenery because they are afraid to come out.  They know that spring still isn't really here yet.

Finally, after much searching, daughter and I stopped and sat on a bench near the Tidal Basin, looking across the water to the Jefferson Memorial.  There was a cold wind blowing, and the water in the basin was very choppy.  There were two paddle boats out on the water, and the occupants were struggling to keep the boats going. They were attempting to paddle upstream towards the bridge, but the water was blowing so hard, they couldn't go anywhere.  They were in the middle of the basin, but making no progress no matter how hard they paddled.  Finally, the Dad climbed over from one boat to another, and moved one of his children to the boat with his wife.  He paddled the first boat back to the pier, dropped off two children, picked up a rope, paddled back out, and tossed the rope to his wife and then towed the wife and remaining child back to shore.

It reminded me of one of those logic math puzzles we used to get back in school.

My daughter and I got up from our bench and began walking when we saw IT - across the basin - next to the 14th street bridge.  One lone cherry tree, in blossom, all by itself.  The crowd around the tree was massive.  We counted over 50 people stopped around the tree.  They were all taking pictures, posing with the tree, and taking pictures of all of the people crowded around the tree.  It was kind of funny.

And then, we saw IT.  On a tree branch, right next to us.  A single blossom had opened it's petals, wide and welcoming to the world around.  Oblivious to the cold, windy day around us, the flower was open and spreading the joy of new beginnings to everyone around it.

My daughter and I took pictures of the flower.  We were standing in the cold, shivering, and a light rain had just started when all of a sudden, we couldn't stop smiling.  Somehow, the miracle of the single cherry blossom had brightened our day and made the trek and the traffic worthwhile.

As we walked away from the trees, searching for the nearest Metro station, we looked back at the tree, and we saw a group of 20 people, huddled around the tree with the blossom.  As we watched, one young man dropped down on a knee, and handed a small box to a young woman who started crying and nodding her head.

Even though we didn't see all of the cherry blossoms in bloom this particular day, we saw so much more.