Sleeping snow white flowers

We live in a neighborhood without grass or trees and know it's spring only from the heat. So on the web we saw the country’s cherry trees had bloomed, headed to the city festival to see the blossoms.

The cab dropped us under a canopy of brown, twiggy trees. Children were walking past balloon and corndog vendors while adults sat under a tent drinking makgeolli. A tunnel of trees led up to a vast, pretty high school campus; we walked in that direction.

Along the path pictures drawn by students showed festival scenes of pink budding in years past of shorter winters. In front of the school we found white flowered trees dropping pedals like snow to ground, were happy something grew.

Past the couples holding palms and friendship picnics we found a single flourished cherry tree. Up into its crown we shoved our cameras hoping it would not seem solo in photos.

There we stood with our single tree and waited for the rest of town to blossom.