Cherry blossom craze

And the awakening of a City from winter slumber

I woke up hungover. My roommates were up and about, probably since sunrise, when I crawled out of my hole. The picnic was today, they said and that it was a beautiful day. I peered out the window and my eyelids refused to open. Yes, I said. It would appear so.

D.C. hadn’t seen this much sun. Shimmers of vapor lifted off the black pavement, the cold had cement into it’s crevices, gaps and dentures. The streets looked like a mirage and my clouded mind wondered if I was still asleep.

But I was feeling good. Vitamin D radiated me like a microwave and the drive down through Chinatown was remarkable, even touristy; a chance to enjoy the city that I have been living in for the past month.

Potomac park is twenty minutes away, they said. My roommates, cooped up in the basement apartment for 4 weeks, were dripped out looking like they were going to the beach. Coolers, picnic baskets, towels, sunscreen on the tip of the nose and back of the neck; outfitted for a day vacation like spring breakers in Florida. But when we got there, approaching the National Mall and Lincoln Memorial, we saw something that bewildered us to our core, made us sweat profusely and jitter our teeth like maracas.

People. Lots of fucking people. Crowds of them. Everywhere. Under rocks, in the trees. Wherever you looked more would appear. They multiplied like parasites and scattered like insects. They crossed streets and cut in-between the stalled cars. Even the lane-splitting mopeds were forced to slow down. I gasped and clutched my mouth as if the truth, the sudden realization of what I was witnessing, would escape me. Are those… families?

Tourists. There were fucking tourists. People who had all decided to come to D.C. for the brief holiday. Apparently everyone in the DMV area had the idea of having a picnic at Potomac park, same as us. But it had been so long since we had all seen so… many… people.

After an hour we finally found parking across the bridge, in fucking Virginia. The walk was pleasant, under the parachuting petals of the cherry blossoms that glittered the path like a cotton candy Milky way, it was exactly what everyone had waited, and expected, of spring.

Dogs jogged with their humans trailing behind, the chubbier ones were dragged by the owners, and there was a shared sensation of cheerfulness. A feeling of normalcy. Of returning to sender from having gone way too far beyond the frey that it made you feel homesick. To a time when general concerns for our well-beings weren’t associated with having a picnic at the park.

And of course we scolded those who didn’t have masks, who were plenty, whether they had been vaccinated or not, none of those were exempted from a cordial 'fuck you put on your mask' from our end, followed up with a 'have a nice day' and 'enjoy spring.’