The Sakura Tree That Needed Space
Others of my kind hate winter. They complain about the bitter cold and groan as they move their stiff limbs in the wind. They bemoan the lack of color in the surroundings, the loss of their flowers and gaze mournfully at people passing by hurriedly. But not me. I love winter. I love the way dusk falls in this season, quickly and silently, enveloping the world in comforting darkness. There are fewer people out on the streets and in the park where I live. They do not like to stay out in the cold for too long. I like the quiet and solitude that winter offers. I spend my winter evenings watching people who come to the park. A middle-aged man runs past with his earphones on. I wonder what kind of music he is listening to. Does it sound better than the soft whispers of the wind? A young couple walks past, hand in hand, the boy laughing at something the girl said. They look so happy and in love. I wonder which of them will be able to remember this moment in the future. Some night