Cherry: The Final Flowering

April is always a strange time here in our particular corner of the PNW where our house seems to sit in its own tiny pocket of micro-climate. We have what I believe is the last-to-bloom cherry tree in Seattle.

Three days ago the tree was bare and the sky brilliant blue. Two days ago we had thunder, lightning, hail…and a waterspout over Puget Sound. Waterspout sounds sort of cute ad friendly, doesn’t it? It’s not. It’s a tornado over water—you do not want to encounter one if you’re in a boat. (Both these images are screen grabs from local news video—like the cats, I was very sensibly safe indoors; sorry for the poor quality.)

Yesterday? The cherry tree decided, Okay, the weather has thrown its final spring curveball, safe to bloom! And so it did.

Every year the speed of change surprises me. One day nothing—no leaves, no flowers—then one morning buds with tiny pink frills peeking from the tips. Then, hours or days later (always unexpected), spang! Leaves and flowers at once. Within a week the whole tree will look like a puff of cotton candy; three of four days after that they’ll all fall off and turn the lawn into a pink carpet. For days the cats will come home covered in petals, tracking them everywhere. Sadly (for us—Kelley really likes cherries), despite all the flowering there will be no fruit. There never is. I don’t know why. The tree is at least 25 years old, so it’s not a question of age. I don’t think it’s a nutrient or sunlight issue, either. I think our cherry just doesn’t have any suitable friends close enough to cross-pollinate.

Perhaps one day someone will plant something compatible, and one day there will be tiny little cherry trees springing up all over. Until then, the birds love the tree. The cats love the tree. And I love the tree. It seems content.

Spring cherry blossoms against red sandstone tenements in the Broomhill area of Glasgow.

#glasgow #broomhill #tenement #spring #cherryblossom