Finding Beauty in the Solitary Bloom

I had a revelation yesterday while visiting cherry blossoms with my family for the first time. As crowds gathered with smartphones raised high, I found myself drawn to a quiet bench just watching. Not the spectacular canopy that everyone photographed, but individual trees with their unique personalities—the curve of branches, clusters of petals, patterns of bark all telling different stories.

When a breeze sent petals raining down—a truly magical moment—most people missed it, too focused on capturing the perfect Instagram shot. It struck me how we value collective beauty while overlooking singular wonders. We walk past solitary blooming trees without a second glance, yet flock to see the same trees when they're part of a celebrated grove.

This experience made me wonder: why do we need permission from crowds to appreciate beauty? Perhaps it reveals something deeper about human nature—our tendency to trust others' judgment over our own discernment.

The Collective Gaze

A single petal whispers,

While a thousand shout their glory.

The crowd draws our eyes skyward,

As the solitary bloom

Keeps its quiet wisdom.

We marvel at forests,

Yet walk past lone trees.

In the spectacle of many,

We find permission to admire,

Safety in shared wonder.

Perhaps this is our nature—

To trust what others value,

To follow where many feet have trodden,

To believe in beauty

Only when it overwhelms.

The lone voice speaks truths

That crowds cannot contain.

But who stops to listen

When the chorus sings so sweetly

Of things we already know?

In a world that worships abundance,

The solitary stands defiant—

A reminder that truth rarely travels

In comfortable numbers,

But often walks alone.

I'm still learning from those cherry blossoms—not just about nature, but about how I choose to see the world. Maybe next time you find yourself admiring something beautiful alongside others, pause to notice what everyone else might be missing.