Today we visit the Imperial Palace in Chiyoda, Tokyo. While it is the primary residence of Japan’s Emperor, the inner palace area is closed to visitors. Instead, we head to the East gardens. Both the palace and the gardens are built on the grounds of the former Edo Castle, the seat of the Tokugawa shogunate. There are thousands of people out today. It is a sunny beautiful day and apparently a lot of people are willing to stand in a security line to see remnants of moats and walls.

As we walk toward the East Garden, I am confused by a large number of volunteers holding signs and pointing. They shout something in Japanese to us. Maybe they are selling tours? We ignore them and continue through security into the East gardens.

It is pretty here. There are historic guard houses and beautiful pine trees. Not exactly the palace that I had hoped to see, but interesting enough.

Along the edge of the moat, there are watchtowers. From inside the guard room we can see the nearby hills. The Edo palace would have been well protected. I feel as if I can see forever.

While we are watching from above, I try to find the emperor’s house. I can’t see it. Instead, I notice long, long lines of people down near the palace grounds. They appear to be queuing for entry. Could it be one of the rare days the palace grounds are open to the public? Was that what the people with signs and bullhorns were trying to tell us?

I am on a mission to find out what is happening. It looks like something important. I finally find a sign in Japanese and use Google Translate to discover that the palace grounds are indeed open today in honor of the first cherry blossoms. My husband and son are not thrilled to learn that I want to walk all the way around the moat back to the palace, queue for security and then enter the restricted area. We stand in line with thousands to go through a even narrower and stricter security lines in order to walk through the palace grounds.

We are confined to one street. We walk through the massive palace gates and past administrative buildings. We can’t actually see the President’s house. We just dutifully follow the crowd and watch them ooh and ahh over the emerging cherry blossoms. There are thousands of cameras pointed at the blooms. Families smile and laugh. It has the feeling of a national holiday.

The wait and walk was long. Honestly, we didn’t see much except a road and a few trees. And yet…. The experience was deeply cultural. I had a glimpse into another form of national expression. I walked inside the Japanese Imperial Palace with thousands of Japanese nationals to open the cherry blossom season. I was welcomed warmly and I got to witness people joyfully participating in their national tradition. That is an unexpected gift and reason enough to celebrate.