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If Mom had secrets she didn’t want me to know, then there’s nothing I can do about that now. She should have buried them in the backyard, and she would have if they were that shameful.

Mieko returns to the house with a box cradled under one arm, drops it at the front door, and then joins me on the lawn. The weather today is pleasant for spring, and my branches sway in the fine breeze, losing petals in a shower amongst the birds.

Refreshed after a nap, I walk to Chie’s ramen restaurant where I drop off the fish and promise to return soon. I wave to the woman running the grocery store and turn the corner toward the center of town.

“How did it go?…” Mieko zips past me, the door to the gate banging shut behind her.

My back pops as I heft the bags of doughnuts and coffee under each arm and make my way down the hill towards the sea. When I was in high school, I biked to the wharf with my friends, and we’d throw rocks in the water while gossiping.

“I don’t get it,” Mieko says, sitting at my roots, her back pressed against my trunk. The sun is setting, the warm tones of the clouds casting a salmon pink glow over the whole yard.

I have no idea what I’m doing or why, just that my favorite cherry tree has sent me on a mission to get to know my mother better. To the local grocer in town, of all places.

“It’s been a long time, Sakura.” Mieko brushes her hand on the cool, rough bark of my trunk, her fingers catching along the dips and cracks.