The white flowers stand against the dark brown bark of the fully bloomed cherry tree. The flowers kiss my cheeks as I lean in to smell them. The antennas of nectar within the flower tickle my nose. I gaze up into the fragrant, delicate cloud that the tree loosely holds. The branches are slender, smooth, and firm with tiny knots. While most have blossomed, a few of the flowers remain tiny, pink buds. Under bare feet, the tender grass and rich mud below the tree remains wet and cold, while the surrounding ground is warm and dry from the sunlight.
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