Sustainable Gardening Blog

For D.C.-area locals who’d rather avoid the HOARDS of tourists around the Tidal Basin, the Maryland suburban neighborhood of Kenwood is THE place to go to see cherry trees in bloom, so after 30+ years living in this area, I checked it out.  (On a weekday, the only sane way to do it.) 

Gorgeous as this neighborhood is, I can’t help feeling sorry for the (admittedly well-off) residents.  According to the Washington Post, more than 30,000 people descend on these few blocks during two weekends each spring to oggle their cherry trees.  Neighbors have resorted to rent-a-cops just to protect their properties and parking spaces. Apparently that doesn’t protect them from the time-honored tradition of cherry blossom breakfasts among Japanese immigrants.  One resident told WaPo he’s found Japanese families enjoying the view from his front porch, and even settling in for breakfast in his front yard or in the back around his swimming pool.  According to Japanese tradition, the cherry blossoms’ short blooming period represents the transience of human life.  (Something I recently reflected upon in lieu of whooping it up on my birthday, getting more philosophical with every passing year.) 

In the grand old American tradition, local kids are raking in the bucks at their lemonade stands.  But just when cynicism starts to rear its ugly head, we learn of the daughters of one cardiothorasic surgeon donating their take ($86 in just three hours) to the Cancer Society.  Ah, there’s a breath of fresh air for ya.

Naturally, the Kenwood neighborhood has a garden club, who act as keepers of the cherry tree tradition and report that 1,200 trees were planted here in the 1920s, even before any of the homes were built.  And just like the majority of the trees around the Tidal Basin, they’re all Yoshinos. 

Speaking of the Tidal Basin, I couldn’t resist checking out the scene there, too, and even on a weekday it was CRAZY CROWDED.  Surely thousands of money shots, like this one with Jefferson in the background, were taken that day, the last warm day before this freakish cold spell, complete with an inch of snow, hit town.  Global warming?  More like global weirding.