Writing Exercise 2 – Description: Cherry Blossoms in Korea

We wait for Spring to come and remind us of the beauty of life after months of winter strip away all that exists leaving only barren branches. Spring reminds us of why we weather all storms: to experience something beautiful is one of the real pleasure of life. In Korea, the first two weeks of April, there is a second snowfall, a snowfall of flowers. The trees are all white and soon the roads are carpeted by a pale pink hue of cherry blossoms descended from the tree to give way to green shoots. A new life begins with a vista that fills the world with music and love. Up the hill, within the canopy of the trees, is an igloo. There one is enveloped all around by a ceaseless ceiling of white through which the sky can be seen, clear and blue. A careless chill dances in the breeze and the collars are up, scarves wrapped, running shoes on, and the feet move with the music all around. There is no hesitation, no lull in the rhythm, only a natural exuberance to become one with the music of nature.

Just as the creation of an awe-inspiring work is preceded by a long period of desolation and work, in the same way, the onset of the cherry blossoms is the coming of spring after months of harsh winter and snow. Winters in Korea are frosty; temperatures dip well below the zero degree mark and it’s quite common to find one’s car submerged inside a thick wall the remains of the snow’s nocturnal rage. A regular aspect for inhabitants of northern countries, but for us who have lived all our lives in the moody furnace of temperate climates, it is fearsome as well as awesome. Spring, in the land of South Korea, is as quintessential as is taught in school and living passages from poets of the northern countries. At night, one would rather be indoors as the breeze bares its blades, but in the morning, don a feathery jacket and bathe in the sunlight strolling down unknown lanes and streets. When the barren branches begin to bloom, the once empty streets are adorned like a pathway for a timeless hero.

Yellow flowers bloom beside the white glow of the beojkkoch unaware of its majestic appearance like the innocent interjection of a child when a guest of honour gives a speech. Instead of breaking the charm, it unwittingly adds to it. It accompanies the white flowers as an embroidery to nature’s annual gown. In the small town of Gunsan-si, the spring season is a breakaway from weeks spent indoors. Around the Eumpa Lake, cars line up one behind the other as do people. Life buzzes into the castle that is the site for nature’s banquet: a place to forget about life and exalt in the expression of this seasonal opera. Where there is a celebration, there is the unmistakable aroma of stall-cooked food and a distant sound of a trumpet from a live jazz show. Couples walk by hand in hand, young and old alike. A group of boys pause at the centre of the bridge and pose for photographs. Arms wide and a smiling face, poses that change with every click, and then hurriedly they rush back to the photographer to see if they appeared as they had intended. Amidst various items on sale, kids running about nonchalantly, adults walking, chatting, or just quietly moving in unison with their partners in hushed silence or exchanging words in secret, the flowers entrance everyone dissipating the worries of life for a few weeks.

In Seoul, the atmosphere is amplified to an extent where the beating heart of the city seems to be floating up in the sky powering every individual. Tourists from all over Korea swarm to view the unforgettable miles of street lined by trees, culminating in the Yeouido Festival behind the National Assembly. Seoul seems to forgo the travails of life during the two weeks, instead the streets are packed with people from all ages visiting sites and historical locations. Students rent traditional Korean garbs and visit the Gyeongbokgung Palace for the perfect cosplay with nature and culture. Cafes and eateries swarm up with walkers eager to get a sweet condiment or snacks to rest up and power up for the walk up to the Changdeokgung Palace. A typical flow might end up at the Namsan Tower for a romantic view of the soul of the throbbing city that is Seoul. Much unlike cherry blossoms that are delicate and inevitable, Seoul is hardened by its past, adaptable, fast, resilient and varied. If anything, the cherry blossoms remind this old but never sleeping city that beauty is a state of mind. It is fleeting and makes the heart dance in unadulterated happiness, yet it s a beacon of hope. Despite the punishing and unforgiving nature of life, it is worth it to survive because the cherry blossoms will come every year and we must be alive to rejoice when it does.