As February rolls around each year, I find myself longing for a change—a change in weather, a change in scenery—longing for blue skies and blooming flowers. It doesn't help that we live in the DC area, and here, there is constant talk of the cherry blossom peak. The forecast is predicted and then sometimes revised, and these elusive trees are the topic of conversation. When will they bloom? When will they peak and turn pink? And for me, their peak is a sign of spring, or at least spring to come.
Last weekend we ventured out to the Tidal Basin. The sky was gloomy, the temps were cool and the wind was brisk, but we were lucky to spot a couple of blooming trees, among tress filled with buds.
Since I didn't get my full flower fix at the Tidal Basin over the weekend, I took a drive during the week to the famed Kenwood neighborhood in search of blooming cherry blossoms. The narrow streets were lined with trees on both sides, branches spread overhead creating a canopy of petals. It was lovely and almost magical to drive through the hills of the neighborhood. And with the windows open and blossoms backdropped with blue skies, I thought for a moment, we found it. We found spring.