If you google ‘who has the most cherry blossom trees outside of Japan’, the number one location is usually Washington, DC. There are approximately 3700 trees in the DC display.

But there are almost 2000 more than that in Branch Brook Park, in Newark, (and partly Belleville) NJ. In early April the display is nothing less than spectacular. While the rest of the world is gray and barren, you can get lost in a sea of pinks. 5200 gorgeous flowering trees, over the space of a 360 acre strip at the northern end of the city.

It is pure beauty, pure joy, and pure hope. Nearly indescribable. Although I go on and on attempting to describe it, year after year.

Last week, while the trees were in full glorious bloom, I was teaching yoga to classes of K-4th grade students, in a school that is exactly half a mile (.5 miles) from those beautiful blossoming trees.

In each class, when I cued Tree Pose, I talked about the cherry blossoms trees, and I asked if anyone had been to the park yet. Almost all of them said no. Over 120 of them. They were .5 miles from the most glorious display of early spring in the whole country, and had never even experienced it.

When I elaborated and explained that there are thousands of trees, just up the road, with bright pink, light pink, and dark pink flowers, I think I saw a flicker of recognition on a few of their faces. One student said they had been there to take photos with their family. One.

The rest had never been there. So there was no excitement, no wonder, no awe. No real appreciation of what I was describing. For a moment, I felt a little bit sad for them.

We moved through the stillness of our tree poses. We pretended to have pretty pink flowers on each of our finger tips. We breathed, and we laughed.

Then we moved on to a breathing meditation that I like to call Handelions.

When I asked them if they knew what a dandelion was, by name, a few of them did. When I explained that it is the yellow flower that grows by the curbs and in the cracks of the sidewalk, they all excitedly said yes!

They jumped up and down calling out what they knew about dandelions.
I have them by my house!
They turn white!
They get fuzzy!
I see them by the playground!
You blow on them!
You can make a wish!

Their energy was pure beauty, pure joy, and pure hope. These joyful children were super excited about the flowers that my suburban neighbors obsessively remove from their lawns. (I feel a little bit sad for them.)

As we blew on our handelions, I wished that the kids would have a chance to get the park to see the trees. And I wished that the rest of us could tap into the joy and amazement that a little yellow weed can bring.

The Handelion Meditation
Reach down and pick an imaginary dandelion.
Lift and extend one arm out straight in front of you.
Thumbs up. Your thumb is now a dandelion.
Close your eyes.
Make a wish.
Inhale as deeply as you can.
Fill your lungs completely with your wish.
Purse your lips, and softly and slowly blow the air out in the direction of your dandelion thumb.
Feel the breath on your thumb. Imagine the white fuzzies flying away.
Empty your lungs completely.
Imagine there are still a few fuzzies left on your flower.
Inhale completely and blow slowly again.
Repeat with the other handelion.