The beauty of dates, numbers and cherry blossoms.


The day I drafted this post, over two weeks ago,  was Saturday September 3. The day before Father’s Day…

I think back to this exact day, Saturday, September 3, 11 years ago. The day I was married. Today would’ve been my 11th wedding anniversary. Eleven years!

I’m divorced now.

I always remember my wedding anniversary, but I usually don’t mention it to anyone these days.

My wedding day 11 years ago was the first Saturday of Spring, the third of September. The day before Father’s Day. I remember my new husband and I sat down to breakfast on Father’s Day, the day after the wedding, at Sheraton on the Park Hotel in Sydney, with our Best Man, his wife, and their four-month-old baby boy.

Our best man and his wife are also divorced now. Their son is 11.

Our best man was the one who introduced my now ex-husband and I to each other. Our son was born on the 11th.

When I woke up on September 3 this year, the first thing I noticed when I looked out my window, was the mist over Red Hill. It obscured the trees and the pointy white roof of the hill top cafe.

Then I noticed the trees in the park across the road, swathed in their fabulous floral frocks. I think they’re called cherry blossoms, but they don’t bear fruit. They are beautiful pink blossoms swaying in the breeze like dancing bridesmaids under a giant bridal veil of mist floating above them on Red Hill.

Why did I wear pink on my wedding day? I questioned myself. I wish I’d worn white and been more classic (maybe next time). But I wore pink like a bridesmaid, like those rows of cherry blossom trees in the park. And I thought all this before I realised what the date was that day.

Spider Boy and I left the house at 11 0’clock to walk to the local shopping centre. I stopped at the letter box on the way out to check the mail. There were no reminder bills, but there was a personal letter! We so rarely get them! A white envelope with my address handwritten and fancy.

Then I knew… I opened it, and sure enough, there it was – a white card, with beautiful black calligraphy on it.

It was an invitation to my uncle’s wedding. He is marrying his beautiful partner. I first met her when Spider Boy was three weeks old, when my uncle brought her to visit us in Canberra. Their wedding will be on the 3rd of December, Saturday 3rd December. Exactly three months time.

My uncle was the MC at my wedding. He did a great job. I was very grateful, I imagine it can’t be an easy thing to do.

Cherry blossoms decorated my wedding reception.  Pink petals on the wedding cake and blossoming as the centrepiece of each table.

This afternoon, Saturday 3rd of September, the sun came out and I knew I had to photograph those pink blossoms in the park.

They were a striking pink as the late afternoon sun emerged from behind a cloud and hit the petals. Spider Boy played on the swings and the slide, and got angry at me for taking too many photos of blossoms.

“Mum, you like the blossoms more than you like me!”

I stopped.

The blossoms scattered in the wind. A changeable day of sun and cloud. The day was dark gray, yellow, bright blue, pink and crystal clear at the same time.

I know I should leave nature, and well enough, alone. But I broke off some twigs studded with floral gems.  I just wanted them in a vase in my house. I didn’t take too many.

I’m so lucky to live near so many beautiful blossoms.

It’s time for new beginnings.

I looked out of the window this morning, two weeks after drafting this post. I realised the blossoms have already dropped to the ground or blown away.

Enjoy your blossoms while you can. Isn’t that a poem?

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying:

And this same flower that smiles today,

Tomorrow will be dying

(First verse of a 17th century poem, “To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time” by Robert Herrick.)

I love the start of a new season. New beginnings.


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