Late to the Festival

I was late to the cherry blossom festival this year, foraying out to the festivities on the last Sunday afternoon of the festival. The advantages of that were the metro was still actually running during the festival-long break from track work, people (who I usually love with all the Christian love an introvert can muster unless they walk in front of, behind, or beside me) had mostly headed home, and the cherry blossoms were, due to some trick of nature this year, only really coming into bloom.

So yes, this is going to be one of those cherry-blossom-filled post, and I would apologize for that, but I love flowers and they make me happy and I hope you feel the same, but if you don’t, you should go look at more flowers until you do.

So how did my cherry blossoming go?

Well, first I sat and did Arabic grammar exercises under this tree. The gentle breeze cooled my sun-awoken skin, the sonic boom of planes echoed off Rosslyn buildings and… yes, I slept.

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I roused myself, grabbed a camera from my house, and decided a walk to the cherry blossom festival would be just the thing.

I admired the view on the way.

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I noticed spring had also brightened up Arlington Cemetery.

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I walked on. Spring was playing hide-and-seek.

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Across the bridge, it was a bit timid in peeking out.

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But it got braver and braver, bursting out in not only colors but greenery upon greenery.

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And finally, the topic of this post:

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I thought this interplay of nature and monument rather fitting:

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Looks like nature is winning here.

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Perfect for a study of human nature as well. Or just silent contemplation.

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The final part of the walk brought me to yet another memorial.
P1020657I realize that my promises of cherry blossom footage may have been misleading. Go look here if you want to see cheery blossom footage (and text) from someone who actually knows what she is doing (I swear it’s only coincidence that she’s Polish as well!)

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One response to “Late to the Festival

  1. Pingback: Traveling around (my kitchen and bookshelf) | Where Is My Suitcase

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