I have this love/dislike relationship with the fleeting nature of cherryblossoms. They come, they flourish, they fall, and all too quickly. I wonder..do I love them because of their beauty or because I know they'll be gone soon? Or both? I may be pondering that for a while.
But regardless, they are a beautiful reminder of the impermanence of life. Like the seasons, life comes and goes...the only constant is flux. While I understand this, when I see pink petals flying in the wind I want to cry out: Can you just stay for one more day? Please! Don't leave so soon, I've only started to enjoy you! Ack!
But alas, they always say in turn: We'll come round again! Byeeeeee
The pain of the goodbye reminds me of the ritual around sand mandalas painstakingly created by Tibetan monks. They gather together for days to create a beautiful and sacred work of art from millions of grains of colored sand, only to sweep it all up and give it to the wind. And then they start again. Ack! But what a practice that is, to start again. To come back, more practiced, better equipped, wiser, keener, having a better handle on things. Maybe that's the teaching of the cherry blossoms. They come back to see how we've grown!