cherry blossom season

When the cherry blossoms come, they arrive so quietly.
One day the trees are bare, and then suddenly—soft pink clouds bloom above our heads. The cherry blossoms don’t make a sound, but they change everything. Like a gentle whisper from the earth saying: spring is here, love. You made it.

Every year, I forget how quickly they come.
And how quickly they go.

Their beauty doesn’t last. It never does.
But maybe that’s what makes it matter so much.

These blossoms are fleeting. They don’t beg for attention, yet their presence is enormous. You stop in your tracks. You look up. You feel something shift—softness blooming in you, too.

I stood under them this morning, camera in hand, heart wide open. The wind caught a few petals and tossed them into the sky like confetti. I smiled, knowing I wouldn’t see them for long. But that’s the lesson, isn’t it? Not everything is meant to stay. Not every kind of beauty needs to last. Some things are meant to be felt deeply, then released gently.

And maybe that’s what the cherry blossoms are really here to teach us: That we don’t have to hold on forever to find meaning.
That even brief beauty can change us.
That it’s okay to bloom wildly, even if only for a moment.

So here’s to the soft pink season.
To the in-between days where spring leans into summer.
To letting go.
To showing up in quiet, breathtaking ways—just like the blossoms.

Waves of love, always.
Ines