From My Notebook: Cherry Blossoms and the Pink Moon in Rome

pink petals hugging the palazzo

The cherry blossoms are already on their way out and I wish I had kept a field guide, a notebook reserved for my nature noticings. 

I’m intrigued by the Japanese seasonal calendar, Shichijūni kō, which divides the year into 72 micro-seasons of about five days each, marking subtle shifts in nature. Hanami, the viewing of cherry blossoms, is only one small part of this broader system of noticing the natural world. But it’s the awareness of the small things, small changes, that I’m interested in these days. 

The bulk of their bloom was toward the end of February – earlier than usual – when I was still too sleepy for Spring or to celebrate hanami, but the subtle scent of the city’s prunus varieties under a full moon stirred something in me, something between sorrow and hope. 

The wind is tiresome, it’s gone on for over day, howling like a wolf. But not even the wolves are out today. I worry about the early buds and baby birds that endure today’s gusts. I’ve been so tired, so tired, sometimes I am exhausted from just thinking of how a pink bloom unfurls, spiraling out from its center only to be torn off by the gusts. Such courage! And doing it anyway.

A few stray blooms huddled at the gate yesterday, the high winds made it easier to push open the heavy wrought iron gate to the building. Passing through I scooped up a handful of battered blooms huddled at the threshold, gently placing them in my pocket. Once inside I set them afloat in a bowl of water, a last bath for these silken blooms, cherry tears refreshed. This morning I pressed one into these pages, her destiny to remind me of the pink moon.

Regarding notebooks and other pages of our lives, if you’d like to usher in the energy of Spring renewal through journaling you can download my free Spring Journaling Prompts to feel into the new season.

If you enjoyed this seasonal piece you might also like noticing summer stillness or this study on light