{finally}

Nature's first green is gold, her hardest hue to hold, her early leaf's a flower but only so an hour.- Robert Frost

Cherry blossoms get to me. One week per year the cherry blossoms bloom at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens and each of the nine years that I've lived in New York I miss them by a few days. I typically arrive at the garden, camera in hand, only to find pink remnants on grass and barren trees. This year, I planned and set a date to see them in person and not on the internet. And so, on an unseasonably hot afternoon with tourists as far as the eye could see, the cousins and I ventured to Flatbush Avenue and entered the gardens. The anticipation of the unexpected was palpable. We walked through the crowds and to the designated space and finally encountered three cherry blossom trees in full bloom. The children began to run and play while carefully avoiding the camera. There was laughter and then quiet - the kind of quiet that only seems to exist in a garden, despite the noise of humans. The sheer beauty of the afternoon was breathtaking. Even if only three trees were in bloom. And for that, I was grateful.