The beautiful cherry blossom, which has been scattering like confetti along all the paths and gardens, is in its last stages now but still it always brings to mind the Housman poem, Loveliest of Trees:
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.
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