A friend from Tod's office organised a late-season hanami party at a Komaba park in Meguro-ku, about 40 minutes on the subway from our house.
It was a beautiful day. Cherry blossoms fluttered from the trees; breezes caused a flurry of floral snow. Our picnic spread represented all our nationalities--American, Canadian, Indian, British, Dutch, Middle Eastern--but was soon dotted with uniform, unintentional, pink garnishes.
The only disappointment of the day came at 4:20 when announcement to park visitors gave a ten-minute closing warning. We unwillingly packed up our picnic and headed home.
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