Perhaps in Europe the rose has more cultural significance, but here in the Pacific Northwest, as in Japan, roses take a back seat to cherry blossoms. Just on my two-block-long street, there are so many varieties that you can tell the date between February and June by which ones are in bloom. Some are so ethereal and pale, like lace. Some are dense pink pom poms. A few are almost completely white and one is almost dark enough to call red. The flowers on my fruiting cherry tree are not the most remarkable, but they do mark the end of the season. I’m not in a hurry for my own tree to blossom. I’ll enjoy marking the time as the others bloom up and down the street.
