I felt happy and comforted when our cherry tree blossomed after incessant rainy days here in the Pacific Northwest. True, this region is known for rainy days. But, this winter has been almost unbearably wet and sunless even for this area. (In addition, the almost unhinged U.S. political situations resulting from the last election exacerbated the sunless condition brought about by nature.) So I was delighted when I unexpectedly spotted pinks on the treetops as I drove along the streets in late March. Then, suddenly in early April our cherry tree began to blossom gradually when sun showed its face for an extended time (of two days). It made me happy. Yet, I felt a vague sense of sadness because the extended weather forecast told us rain would come back. This sadness is, of course, the sense of transience (what Japanese calls “mujo” or “hakanasa”). I was resigned to the foreseeable future of a cherry tree surrounded by myriad of pale pink cherry blossom petals on the wet ground. Then, gusty winds came. The wind danced like a crazed spirit outside. Some tree branches were knocked down. So I was surprised and very touched when I opened our front door to find the cherry blossoms still hanging onto their lives. This made me realize that there is no such a thing as “fate” or “destiny.” Cherry blossoms, which are symbolic for transience, can be resilient even when sturdier-looking trees lose their grounds.