When you have a glorious weeping cherry tree right in front of your bedroom window, you watch that thing every single day once the snow melts.
It's because the blooms of the weeping cherry last for a week at best. It all happens so quickly--from bud to blossom to thick green foliage--that I've learned over the years to pay attention.
I step away from mopping my kitchen floor, and I gaze at the branches.
The buds! The buds have come, and some of them are nearly bursting. Maybe, this very week, I'll have that firecracker explosion of blooms on this tree.
As I clean and mop up the footprints of little girls who race through my house, I remember how fast it all goes. Back in the days of diapers and colic, I just couldn't wait for it all to be over. But now? What I wouldn't give for a few days with my girls as little toddlers again!
I take in every moment now because I finally realize they won't be here for long. I also see each day as that precious cherry blossom. It's taken years, but finally, I'm starting to see it.
I'll have that beautiful bloom for the shortest time, and then I won't.
Did it go so fast?