Kwanzan Cherry

A late afternoon respite by the garden, washed warm by side light and cooled by long shadows and dewy grass beneath cherry blossoms. The rhythmic trilling of tree frogs sets the pace of my breathing. With a deep inhale I catch a slight peppery taste of pollen on the air, but rinse it immediately away with the humidity and salty persperation gathering around my lips. A long exhale pushes away the no-see-ums and other annoyances buzzing about my head. “You did what you could this day. Now let it be.”

Words and images by Michael J. Hall