As always, once we get into March, I begin to anticipate the coming of the cherry blossom (sakura). The best laid plans were made for a little vacation to Kyoto and the favorite spots around Tokyo for catching and snapping the epic splendor of our favorite flower. What we did not anticipate, as all contended people never do, was an outside force that would affect our lives along with the lives of millions of people around the globe.
Travel photography is my stock and trade. Photojournalism is not. So when I found myself amidst the devastation visited upon Iwate Prefecture by the Great Eastern Japan Quake of March 11th 2011, rather than being around the fading of the plum blossoms as an intro to the cherry blossoms, as is my tradition, as it is for so many Japanese, I, like they, was at a loss for what to think and feel.
It is perhaps and over-used cliche to regard the sakura as representing new beginnings. But this year that was given new meaning as those who survived the ravages of the tsunami turned to this little flower as a symbol of their survival, of their struggles, of their nation, of their hopes.
Those of us working long hours to try to bring a slight measure of relief to our Japanese family, were consumed with the task at hand, too focussed on the present to contemplate the future. It was the normal ground-hog day of military operations that push the simple pleasures of life aside as if doing so had some purpose - brought us closer to those who really felt the brunt of the disaster.
But amidst all of the recent pain and suffering, and death and concern over the future of our Japan, something amazing happened. The flowers came anyway. Despite calls from the governor of Tokyo, who advised against flower viewing as a sign of respect to the people of Tohoku - the flowers arrived. And they were seen. And deep inside we kept a little secret to ourselves - that we were glad they came, that we were glad they woke us from our somnambulist shuffle - and even dared think that, even though the people of Tohoku were still suffering, that we could take a moment to notice the sakura and be thankful for them. And then the people of Tohoku told us themselves that it was OK for us to celebrate the sakura if we wanted to and that we should buy their sake and other products in doing so, so that we could do something tangible to help them heal...and to heal ourselves in the process.
So we did do just that, not the way we normally do, but in a way that has us hoping that the rest of the year is going to be better than its first few months. And some of us might even be so bold to think that next time the sakura bloom, it will be a time when the Japanese can reflect how far they have come since the last time they got ready to take time out spend time with our favorite flower.











