Sakura Blossom Quotes

Due to their short bloom time, Sakura blossoms are a metaphor for life itself: beautiful yet fleeting. You’ll realize when you’re as old as me to hang on to the good times because they won’t last forever.

The water-dragon’s name was Lady Kiyomizu, although much to Junichiro’s horror she breezily told Laurence to call her Kiyo, and not to stand on formality. “You have no manners anyway,” she said, “and there is no sense your trying to put out sakura blossoms, when you are a bamboo.

I wish I could see a cherry blossom or a lotus flower. Where could they be?

... there is no sense your trying to put out sakura blossoms, when you are a bamboo.

Like any great and good country, Japan has a culture of gathering- weddings, holidays, seasonal celebrations- with food at the core. In the fall, harvest celebrations mark the changing of the guard with roasted chestnuts, sweet potatoes, and skewers of grilled gingko nuts. As the cherry blossoms bloom, festive picnics called hanami usher in the spring with elaborate spreads of miso salmon, mountain vegetables, colorful bento, and fresh mochi turned pink with sakura petals.

How mutable the flower of the human heart, a fluttering blossom gone before the breeze’s touch – so we recall the bygone years when the heart of another was our close companion, each dear word that stirred us then still unforgotten; and yet, it is the way of things that the beloved should move into worlds beyond our own, a parting far sadder than from the dead.

A moon of unsurpassable brilliance flooded the silent landscape with a cruel glare of greenish light, which traced sharp inky shadows of the trees on the rounded white folds. The snow crystals caught and reflected the moonlight upon a myriad facets until I appeared to be walking in a world of sparkling diamonds. The frightful stillness of the woodland at midnight was almost startling – everything seemed to be frost-bound and nerveless. Even the icy air seemed frozen into immobility. The crisp crunch of my footfall appeared to be an unpardonable intrusion, while the scars they made upon the smooth field of scintillating white seemed a positive sacrilege.

The first-known cultivated cherry in Japan was a weeping cherry, a form of Edo-higan. Aristocrats were enchanted by the way in which the thin, supple branches bent over towards the ground, giving the illusion of tears when the tree blossomed, and so they propagated this mutation by collecting seeds and planting them in their gardens.

Collingwood Ingram was a cherry-tree colossus. A passionate advocate for the blossoms and a leading authority on them, he saved some varieties from extinction. He built the world’s biggest collection of cherry-tree varieties outside Japan in his Kent garden. His broader legacy was to spread a diverse cherry-tree culture almost single-handedly across the British Isles and the world at large.

Skylar laughed a lot in these scenes. He was happy. He was always helping people too—a whole section depicted him playing hero to the art majors as they gazed at him adoringly, and Xander glowered jealously on the sidelines. That made Skylar laugh in real life. There were so many scenes of him helping people. He was Mr. Friendly, according to Xander. This was such a better painting. This was how Xander saw him? This was beautiful. This is who I want to be instead. “I love this,” Skylar said as Xander cleaned his brush. “Oh, I’m not done.” Xander got out a small round brush and reached for the pink. He began to paint delicate, beautiful cherry blossoms all over Skylar’s body. There was writing too—Xander explained each kanji to him, that they meant he was magnificent, sensitive, sensual, artistic, charming, loyal, steadfast—he lost track of the words because while they were wonderful and the script breathtaking, it was the blossoms that did him in. He sees me as a cherry tree. A blooming, beautiful cherry tree. Skylar sobbed. “I love you,” Skylar cried, trying not to spill tears because Xander was painting cherry blossoms across his face. “I love you too, my sakura.

In AD 812 the imperial family hosted a cherry-blossom viewing party for the first time, establishing a link with the cherry culture that continues to this day. The Japanese aristocracy, which sought to forge a national identity away from Chinese influence, celebrated cherries as their own special flower. At their annual hanami gatherings they wrote poems about the flower and about life, and then read them aloud.

To Ingram, the way that Japan had lurched into a culture of extreme uniformity was alien, restrictive and potentially dangerous. The disappearance of diversity, highlighted by the extinction of the Taihaku cherry, was indicative of Japan’s militaristic mood in the 1920s and 1930s. The ubiquity of the lookalike Somei-yoshino cherry spoke volumes about the dark path of conformity which the Japanese followed, until their 1945 defeat.

the Meiji leaders faced a dilemma. How could they unite, emotionally and spiritually, thirty-four million people who had no sense of belonging to a ‘nation’? During the Edo period, from 1603 to 1868, everyone belonged to his own domain and was beholden to one of the 270 or so daimyō. No one called himself or herself ‘Japanese’. But now, in case of an emergency, the government would need to convince millions of ordinary people to take up arms.

His eyes light up. “Wait, this is a sakura mochi. How did you remember—" I glance down and curse internally at the faintly pink, round dessert, pale as a cherry blossom petal. How did I remember his favorite? His mom used to take us, Cam, and Remy down to San Jose to go around Japantown, picking up bentos from a homey restaurant to eat at the park, and then we’d stop at Shuei-Do Manju Shop. Every time, without fail, Jack would choose sakura mochi. The times that there was only one left in stock, the rest of us purposefully ordered other sweets, just so Jack could get his favorite. And his eyes would shine with delight as he munched on the pink rice cake, the way he’s smiling now.

Four years to the day after Fairchild's 1908 gift of the trees to Washington's schools, on March 27, 1912, Mrs. Taft broke dirt during the private ceremony in West Potomac Park near the banks of the Potomac River. The wife of the Japanese ambassador was invited to plant the second tree. Eliza Scidmore and David Fairchild took shovels not long after. The 3,020 trees were more than could fit around the tidal basin. Gardeners planted extras on the White House grounds, in Rock Creek Park, and near the corner of Seventeenth and B streets close to the new headquarters of the American Red Cross. It took only two springs for the trees to become universally adored, at least enough for the American government to feel the itch to reciprocate. No American tree could rival the delicate glamour of the sakura, but officials decided to offer Japan the next best thing, a shipment of flowering dogwoods, native to the United States, with bright white blooms. Meanwhile, the cherry blossoms in Washington would endure over one hundred years, each tree replaced by clones and cuttings every quarter century to keep them spry. As the trees grew, so did a cottage industry around them: an elite group of gardeners, a team to manage their public relations, and weather-monitoring officials to forecast "peak bloom"---an occasion around which tourists would be encouraged to plan their visits. Eventually, cuttings from the original Washington, D.C, trees would also make their way to other American cities with hospitable climates. Denver, Colorado; Birmingham, Alabama; Saint Paul, Minnesota.

Why don’t we marvel at our own passing time on earth with the same joy and passion? Why do we neglect to revel in life when it can end at any moment, or in the grace surrounding us everywhere: our family, friends, a stranger’s smile, a child’s laugh, new flavours on our plate or the scent of green grass? It is time, cherry blossoms remind us, to pay attention.

cherries were portrayed as symbols of youth, love, romance and contentment,

Japanese sakuramori, or cherry guardian,

Japan’s attachment to cherry blossoms represents a unique and singular obsession.

Other nations have special flowers, of course. But who could imagine virtually the entire population of Britain or Germany or America visiting parks on one particular weekend to view a flower, no matter how lovely?

hanami, or cherry-viewing, party (in Japanese, hana means flower and mi means seeing).

In Japan, the season is much more defined. The flowers of each Somei-yoshino tree survive for about eight days, no more, and the reason they all blossom together and then lose those blossoms together is that they are clones.

Ingram introduced about fifty different kinds of Japanese cherries to Britain. He was the first person in the world to hybridise cherries artificially. He created his own new varieties.

ancient Japan, cherry blossoms had been emblematic of new life and new beginnings.

in the 1930s, as successive governments used the popularity of sakura, and its imperial links, as propaganda tools among an unquestioning people. Rather than focusing on cherry blossom as a symbol of life, the songs, plays and school textbooks now focused more on death. Classic poems were deliberately misinterpreted, and it became the norm to believe that the Yamato damashii, or ‘true Japanese spirit’, involved a willingness to die for the emperor–Japan’s living god–much as the cherry petals died after a short but glorious life.

from the late nineteenth century onwards, the newly cultivated Somei-yoshino cherries were a convenience.

By the late 1880s more than 30 per cent of all cherry trees in Tokyo were Somei-yoshino.

Millions more were planted nationwide after Japan’s military victory against Russia in 1905, and to celebrate Emperor Taishō’s accession to the throne in 1912 and Emperor Shōwa’s (Hirohito) in 1926. Other cherries were neglected or simply disappeared. Few people cared, and fewer still did anything about it.

I had seen a thousand ‘Visit Japan’ advertisements, often highlighting the same two icons: a snow-capped Mount Fuji and the cherry blossom.

several Japanese cherry specialists who risked their lives during the Pacific War (as the Second World War is known) to preserve rare varieties.

After all, Japanese people are familiar with concepts such as hanami or cherry-blossom viewing, but such Japan-specific experiences needed explaining to Nippon neophytes.

the four centuries before 1853, when Japan had a transformative encounter with the West, its history divided in two. The first period, ranging from 1467 to 1600, was the so-called Age of Civil Wars, also known as the Sengoku era. The second period, until 1853, was a peaceful time of seclusion called Sakoku, which means ‘country in chains’, when Japan had little contact with the rest of the world. This was the golden age of cherry blossoms.

News of Japan’s existence had spread. Marco Polo, writing in the thirteenth century after visiting China, had called Japan ‘Cipangu, the land of gold’. Although Polo never himself set foot in Japan, his vivid descriptions of its monumental wealth stirred many an adventurer, including Columbus.

Catching up with the West became a national obsession and a new era of rapid economic, social and political development took hold.

Catching up with the West became a national obsession and a new era of rapid economic, social and political development took hold. After centuries of discouraging contact with most foreigners, Japan welcomed thousands of Western educators, entrepreneurs, government officials, naturalists and adventurers.

during this peaceful Sakoku period that unique arts and culture evolved, mostly in Edo and other large cities. These included ukiyo-e woodblock prints, pottery, haiku poetry, kabuki plays and the creation of about 250 varieties of cherry blossom in the Edo gardens of the daimyō lords.

Japanese arts, crafts and culture became a craze after the 1860s. In particular woodblock prints and paintings featuring cherry blossoms, by artists such as Katsushika Hokusai and Utagawa Hiroshige,

Oh what wow is the colour pink! Butterflies dance as the winds blink. Look now in March, the tree sticks lean. Shielding Kyoto's landscape, all pink, little green. Pink is the colour of Sakura so awesome! Can you guess the name? You are right, it's Cherry Blossom!

Most urban cherries had been wiped out in Japan during the war, leaving the cities bereft of colour and character. The revival began on a small scale as early as 1948, just three years after Japan’s surrender, when 1,250 trees were planted in the war-burnt fields of Tokyo’s spacious Ueno Park, one of the capital’s first public parks. This had been a popular cherry-viewing, or hanami, site since the early seventeenth century, so it was natural that the government wanted to re-establish this tradition.

in the 1960s, the conservative Liberal Democratic Party that has ruled Japan almost continuously since 1955 sought to make the cherry tree a recognisable global icon of the nation’s rebirth,

By 1964, when Tokyo hosted the Olympic Games, Somei-yoshino was again Japan’s quintessential cherry.

the decade between 1955 and 1965 a ‘Somei-yoshino bubble’ because so many trees were planted by local governments, both to beautify land that had been bombed by the Americans

The Somei-yoshino variety has only existed for 150 years at most, Sano stressed to me. Given the 2,000-year-plus history of Japan’s cherry trees, the monotone scenery of the twenty-first century is an historical exception rather than the norm.

Britain racked by post-war austerity, the sight of cherry blossoms in full bloom was an uplifting experience. Few people associated these Japanese flowering cherries with Japan’s conduct during the war,

in Britain, tens of thousands of cherries were planted between the 1950s and the mid-1970s, bringing colour, variety and a touch of Asian exoticism to the urban environment. The trees’ popularity became evident in the names of streets, parks, pubs and restaurants.

Check the map of any British town or village and there’s almost always a ‘Cherry’ or ‘Cherry Tree’ avenue, close, park, road, street or way, mostly named during or after the 1950s, each containing a few hastily planted trees to justify its name.

Nadeshiko loved cherry blossoms. When she was little she said if she ever had a girl she’d name her Sakura. And you’re that Sakura.

Since 2011 cherry trees, a symbol of life and rebirth, have been planted in great numbers near Fukushima, in memory of those who died and to help resurrect neighbourhoods washed away during the tsunami.

Japan’s abundance of cultivated, or man-made, cherries was unique. No other peoples in the world cultivated cherries to such an extent. All of these man-made varieties were derived from only ten known species of natural wild cherry that grew in Japan.

The Tale of Genji, a literary masterpiece written by Murasaki Shikibu in the early eleventh century, cherries were portrayed as symbols of youth, love, romance and contentment,

Toyotomi’s extravagant parade and party are re-created at the temple every April in the temple gardens, where more than 1,000 cherry trees now bloom.

From a virtual standing start in the 1920s, Japanese flowering cherry trees became a part of British people’s daily lives within half a century.

the feudal domains were re-designated as prefectures, which were similar to English counties and US states, and the daimyō lords who ruled these fiefdoms were replaced by governors sent from Tokyo.

By shutting itself off from most of the world and banning Catholicism, Japan avoided being colonised and enjoyed peace for more than 200 years.

The Tokugawa shogunate established a nationwide system consisting of about 270 domains, each ruled by a daimyō. Although the shōgun led the country, each domain in this feudal system had its own political, economic and social structure. In effect, each functioned as a small country or principality that paid homage to the shogunate. Each domain also maintained a rigid class system. At the top, of course, were the daimyō, served by their samurai warriors, who were the only Japanese allowed to carry swords. Beneath them came the farmers and peasants who produced food, followed by artisans who made clothes, swords and other goods. Almost at the bottom were the merchants, segregated and ostracised because they made money from others’ labour. Underneath everyone else were the Eta: leather-tanners, undertakers and executioners, who dealt with animal slaughter and death.

At least three of the doctors stationed on the island over the centuries–Engelbert Kaempfer in the late seventeenth century, Carl Thunberg in the eighteenth century and Philipp von Siebold in the early nineteenth century–were avid botanists, whose Japanese plant collections and descriptions were the first to reach Europe.

Hiraizumi’s comments were given additional weight by the fact that the blossoms of the Somei-yoshino cloned variety, which dominated the landscape by the 1930s, all bloomed and fell at the same time. That was a relatively new phenomenon. Before the mass plantings of Somei-yoshino in the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries, cherry blossoms in Japan did not give such an impression. Indeed, what few realised was that the Somei-yoshino cherry had not even existed before the 1860s.

It’s Black Sakura’s titular tradition,” I answered. “The folklore is that the sakura cherry tree blooms pink because its roots drink the blood of the dead, so the premise is that a dedicated reporter is so steeped in ink their veins would stain the blossoms black.