Loveliest of trees, the cherry now

The roadside tree outside my Mother's house is looking spectacular.
It brings to mind A E Housman's poem from A Shropshire Lad.

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing  white for Eastertide

Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take  from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.

And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.

The extra is her elderly tortoise enjoying his Easter spring greens, having just  awoken from hibernation.