花見

Even though I knew what to expect from things this time round, a second year in Japan, still, expectations seem to have been thwarted.

Last year this time of year was a week of school nights spent under the trees, surrounded by grander parties with blue tarpaulins and platters of sushi, office workers straight from the office and us sat on jackets til it got a little too cold and we a little too tipsy to care, and pulled on our jackets. Trees illuminated with spotlights, a dozen of us and a white quivering ceiling.

This year, I've managed to get to Kajo Park late, and no-one seems to be sticking around like last year. In fact no-one seems to be around like last year. I went last night with a friend Nicole and we bumped into some students of hers from Nanko High School and took pictures with them on the bridge, then ate dango, because it's what you eat at Hanami time.

This morning the rain broke, sputteringly it came down all day long and the clouds smudged right down into the mountains until the two were indistinguishable in great charcoal blue swathes. In a strange way, I liked it. Cowering at home then under a brolly and on my momma cherry town-cruising bike all the way to school. Drinking hot mugs of Houji Cha at school like we were served with extravagant breakfasts, in ryokan, my mother and I, in Kyoto this last trip I was on. The blossom falling, speckling pavement, collecting.