Kakunodate Samurai Residences Taking my time beneath the blossoms, kimono sleeves in hand

The moment I stepped onto the samurai district’s main street in my rented kimono, my steps got a little shorter. I held my sleeves in one hand and walked slowly alongside the black wooden fences. Then I spotted the weeping cherry blossoms hanging over the top and found myself looking up.

The blossoms were so much closer than they’d looked from afar. I followed each branch to its tip and almost forgot I’d been walking at all. When I stopped to look up, my kimono sleeves settled softly around me.

In this outfit, I thought I might be able to walk a little more gracefully. I straightened my back, and for a moment, I felt as if I belonged in the townscape too. But every time I spotted another cherry tree, a smile crept across my face, and my attempt at looking composed didn’t last long.

From beside the black wooden fences, I could see even the blossoms lining the slender branches. My eyes moved from one branch to the next, and I could barely make any progress down the street. I had nowhere I needed to be in a hurry, so I let myself take my time.

I started walking again and held my sleeves in place once more. Even in front of a fence I’d normally pass without a second glance, I wanted to stop and look up. I’d rented the kimono so I could take photos with the cherry blossoms, but I hadn’t expected the walk itself to make me this happy.

Before leaving the street, I turned back for one last look at the blossoms. I’d set out trying to look composed, but by the end, I was smiling like myself again. I wanted to remember every detail of that spring in Kakunodate, right down to how I held my sleeves.