Snowing Cherry Blossom

It was snowing cherry blossom in Market Square today. Strong gusts of wind were stripping the trees of their colour, the eddies whipping up the petals and collecting them together into little pools of pink. John the roadsweeper was trying in vain to sweep them up. It all felt as wrong as it was pointless. He had to admit the same but that was what he was paid to do. He had no choice. The practical ruled over the romantic.

It all seemed pregnant with symbolism, as if carrying a message for me, but in a language that I couldn't understand. The whole day felt like that really. I guess there is always a price to be paid when you return to the real world after a bit of escapism.