Sometimes I get pulled into this overwhelmingly sober headspace where I’m like, “time is a construct, what is even reallllll.” Seriously — sober. Then nature pulls something simple yet awe-inspiring— like pushing along those yearly blooms on my weeping cherry tree, and those thoughts are replaced with something more like, “nature is beautiful, and the perception of time facilitates its appreciation.” Which, okay is a bit stream-of-consciousness-y and might not totally follow, but whatever.
That unnecessary and probably mostly useless bit of context brings me to this week’s previously hoarded photo: one of the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of random backlit afternoon shots I’ve taken of my backyard weeping cherry tree’s yearly burst of blossoms.
I love taking these pictures but really have nowhere to share them. Posting these to my IG more than once or twice a year (at most!) absolutely feels like overkill already. As a result, these photos, many of them effectively duplicates, generally do nothing but languish, taking up space on my hard drive.
They still make me smile, though. 🌸