CHERRY BLOSSOM

The cherry blossom is out. It feels too early for it. When Junko pointed it out, just outside a meeting room, I very nearly exclaimed: 'But it's the wrong time of year!'

It isn't of course. It's Spring. Though, looking at the grey sky and feeling the dots of rain while the wind ruffles your scarf won't do anything to persuade you.

It's a beautiful thing, cherry blossom. It hangs so gently from the trees, almost out of place on those bare wintry branches. The breeze makes it sway a little, each cluster like a tiny Chinese lantern, beaming as it bobs along.

I need Spring. The freshness that it brings is long overdue, and I am fed up with the cold, empty winter. I can't wait for the warm blue sky and the soft summery breeze, not to mention the sunlight filtering through those bright green leaves.

I can wait; I'm just impatient. It's something I've noticed about myself - frustration makes me much less patient than I used to be. I am trying to work on that. After all, the cherry blossom appears when the season is changing. Only then and not before.

And that does give me some hope.