Cherryblossom evening.

Sunrise, sunsets, twilight and dawn. Hope resting on the slow passing of light over the horizon. I sit on the porch, looking out towards the orange sky, watching the birds fly and the dogs bark. Watching the silent transition of a white dot into the vast sky as the moon we greatly revere. My acquaintances sit around me and smile out towards the world. Slowly, we know everything fades away, we will too. But we are still alive, limbs still intact, beauty of the world still palpable.
Girl and boy, man and woman, distant on the edge of the hill. Lying in perfect silence, hands entwined, looking up at the sky. Smiles flitting across eyes and lips. No movement, no wind. Moon comes up into the sky, she points at it. He smiles back at her. No talking. The silence a comfortable blanket around the two living bodies. I’m still smiling looking at them. Silence this comfortable is hard to come by, knowing it won’t be easy. This solitude is only perforated by the shallow sound of the tiny stream, the water hitting the rocks lightly, less volume, lesser noise, but sound nonetheless. Both of them, never moved bodies but hands. Hands to feel and talk, hands never leaving the other’s grasp. I can’t hear them talking, I can’t hear them laughing. They’ve curled up inside that silent blanket, away from the world. Clutching at the sides of the blanket, their big eiderdown, refusing to let go of it. Slowly, the sky turns darker, stars start creeping into view, and the wide, beaming smile of those two humans comes into full view. They’re making shapes, laughing, sharing a stare and going back to parallel thoughts. As suddenly as they start smiling, the clouds come and shroud the stars from view. It’s going to be a thunderstorm. The sky is black and menacing. The lightning crops up across the sky. The boy smiles and puts his other hand on the girl’s head, touches her hair, motions for her to get up.
They start walking towards us, jumping and walking fast, enjoying the fast winds that blew the girl’s hair away. The boy runs inside and brings out a camera, and in the vastness of those fields, he’s clicking her trying to keep her hair in place. A drop of water falls on her nose, and she looks up. Standing below the darkest, lowest cloud, she points up at it and giggles. She stands still, arms outstretched and smiling. The slow and steady shower starts. Drops of water rolling down her face, neck, hands, waist, legs and finally reaching the grass. Thunder, rains and claps of beautiful, structural lightning. She lowers her head and smiles at him, he extends his hand calling her inside.
Coming nearer, I can see both of them drenched, in need of a fireplace. We believed they may have noticed us by now. We were only trying to watch them. The girl screams in excitement and runs towards us.
“Sweetheart, look! Cherry blossoms in this season. What good luck!”
And the boy only looked at us and grinned. We had made her happy.

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