Around five in the evening, we returned home from nearby Komatsugawa Park after an almost three-hour Hanami party with friends. It had been a delightful O-hanami gathering, with nearly eighty friends coming together to enjoy the season and each other’s company. After such a long and cheerful afternoon, a short break felt necessary to re-energize the body, so I decided to take a nap. However, I couldn’t extend it beyond twenty minutes. The thought that daylight would soon give way to darkness nudged us awake and drew us back toward the park.
That quiet urge led our steps once more to the place where nearly a thousand Sakura trees stood dressed in their latest spring kimonos. Shades of pink and white blended effortlessly, mesmerizing Komatsugawa Park and everyone who visited it that day. The cherry blossoms were at their finest, and the evening felt like the perfect moment to savor their beauty.
Though we were tired, the worry that wind and rain might carry away this miraculously woven wardrobe of the blossom princess, Konohanasakuya-hime, kept us going. In Japanese mythology, Konohanasakuya-hime (木花咲耶姫), also known as Konohananosakuya-hime (木花開耶姫), is the daughter of the mountain god Ōyamatsumi and the princess of blossoms. She symbolizes the delicate and fleeting nature of earthly life.
Komatsugawa Park is home to nearly one thousand Sakura trees and draws visitors from nearby neighborhoods, especially during the Hanami season. In Tokyo, the park is well known for its Senbon-zakura—literally meaning “one thousand cherry trees.” The Sakura-lined road running parallel to the Arakawa River, along with the park itself, offers an ideal setting for O-hanami gatherings. The park is well equipped, with three restrooms located in different areas and a parking space that can accommodate up to ninety-seven cars. That said, most visitors prefer public transportation, such as trains and buses, to reach the park.
Apartments surround the park on the east, west, and north sides, while the Arakawa River borders it to the south. The park serves as a recreational space for residents of nearby apartments and attracts people from surrounding areas, especially in the evenings. Many come to enjoy sports facilities or let their children play in the playground. Over time, the park has become a familiar meeting place for those of us living in the Ojima and Higashi-Ojima areas, particularly on weekends.
As we walked around the park, quietly absorbing the beauty of the Sakura, one full round brought us back to the realization that it was time to return home. A herniated disc in my lower lumbar spine, combined with the cold wind blowing in from the riverside, compelled me to give in. My spirit, however, remained tireless, longing to spend a little more time with nature. The children, too, were reluctant to leave and paid little attention to our requests.
The day was slowly retiring, handing over its treasures of earth and sky to the night. As we walked away, the clouds in the sky and the clouds of Sakura blossoms in the park began to resemble each other from a distance. Clouds are ephemeral—they appear, change form, drift, and disappear, yet they bring joy to those who observe them. Sakura blossoms share the same fleeting beauty. They bloom briefly, fade away to welcome the next season, and leave behind gentle memories.
Sakura reminds us of the impermanent nature of life. Yet, instead of evoking sorrow, it fills us with joy, energy, enthusiasm, and hope. That is why we await this season every year and celebrate each petal of this extraordinary gift of nature—the Sakura.
On Saturday, 4th April, I went back to India as planned. There were varieties of flowers at my home in India. Many different varieties of hibiscus flowers in the garden in front of our home were also beautiful and were a feast for eyes. My younger brother is fond of hibiscus flowers and he collect varieties of them and takes care along with the love birds in the garden.
