From the time I was born until I was about to enter third grade, our family lived on a small street that deadended at an entrance to a wonderful park that had the second largest cherry blossom display in the country. (D.C. had the largest in those days) Every spring when blossoms adorned every tree ( or so I thought), people would come from all over to stroll in the park and enjoy the beauty. Of course, we walked in the park amost every day. I remember walking with my parents, my grandparents, with my mother and the stroller, with my mother and grandmother walking through the park to get to our local butcher, with my grandfather to roll down the big hill. Almost always, we stopped at the playground and I rode the swings the tall wooden slide, the seesaw, and the merry-go-round which was powered by bigger kids and went around much too fast. But when the cherry blossoms were in bloom, our family would get dressed up in Sunday best and join all the other "tourists" to stroll in the park and take pictures.
When Julia and I were out in Jersey a few weeks ago, and Cheshire was with us, I took them to visit my old park and we visited just after the peak of the cherry blossom display. There are still beautiful trees, some very old and hardly in bloom at all, and many small new trees in their first blooms. The display was not as lush as I remembered but it looked like there will be lush displays again when the new trees mature. Still, it was lovely, and we walked, played in the playground, and took pictures of my lovely girls.
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