Under a Sakura Tree
A Retrospective
A few years ago, I had the pleasure of visiting Akita, Japan. Some good friends of mine live up there, and it just so happened that I was fortunate enough to see the Sakura blossoms in full bloom. The roads were surrounded by pink flowers upon the trees. It was really something. Incredibly wondrous.
I also found, upon shopping in Yokohama, that the Sakura scent is pretty pleasant too. A bit feminine, but I think there’s something kinda masculine about it too. After all, its got such a deep tie to Japanese culture, it sorta transcends classification.
Another friend of mine once joked that his ‘dream death,’ if such a thing could be said, would be to walk upon the poet’s path through Japan, and, an old man, fall asleep under a Sakura tree, and never wake up. It’s a way to go, to be sure.Today, I walked out of the Siam Square Mall to see a Sakura tree. Several Thai families were crowded around it, talking and eating lunch. A lone woman who I thought might be Japanese, with the nervous expression of a teacher, sat by herself, typing away on her pink phone.
I had a mild stomachache and a headache, and needed to go to Watson’s to get some paracetamol and coca-cola to see if I could get myself in better shape. Afterwards, I figured, what the Hell—I’ll walk back to the Sakura tree, and see if she’s still there. Doubtful she’ll want to speak to me, but it would be nice to sit near a beautiful woman for a moment.
Sure enough, she was there, now standing beside an empty table.
“Excuse me, are you using this table?” I said.
“Oh.” She said, in a Japanese accent. “I just sit here.”
She sat down at the table, and looked into the distance, the nervousness never leaving her face.
“Oh. Ok.” I laughed, and awkwardly took a chair from her table to the empty table next to it, considering for a moment if I should ask to sit with her, but deciding, based on her projected nervousness, that it might be better not to.
The sun suddenly burst out of the clouds, and my table was ensconced in unbearable heat. I looked to her table in the shade.
Maybe I should ask…
And then, in that moment, her girlfriend appeared. She smiled, gave her a hug, spoke in English to her, and the two departed for the shopping stalls.
I was left looking up at the Sakura blossoms, realizing suddenly that the tree above me was actually a fake one. I wasn’t dead, I wasn’t going to die, but I certainly did feel a sense of contentment, rather than sorrow.
I moved to her former table, protected in the shade. Wherever she went, and wherever she’s going, I hope she is happy on the journey and whenever she gets there. I certainly am.
The Sakura blossoms bend upon their branches in the wind.
I guess I’d hope, based on that limited but pleasant interaction, that she lives a long, happy, and healthy life. It’s the best we all can hope for.
Finishing my can of coca-cola, I get up and head for the skytrain.
She does not cross my path today again.