Funny, strange, whimsical things can bring us to tears. Things that touch the heart, unexpectedly. Watching NHK's Seasoning the Seasons, a story about the Kiyomizudera Temple in Kyoto, did just that this morning. Presenting little vignettes that visitors to this wonderful temple would ordinarily not notice, the program ventured into territory that was both universally human in its scope but also especially Japanese.

I first went to Kiyomizudera on that watershed trip to Japan with my old choir in 1998. I returned perhaps half a dozen times after that with guests or visitors who had come to stay with us in Sanda. This time I was the guide. It's a lovely temple with expansive grounds and a marvellous view from the "stage" area adjacent the main hall.

But I digress. The story in the TV program I alluded to touched on a stand of cherry trees that had been planted 15 years earlier. Each tree was a donation by an individual or family and every tree had its own little sign. All the trees were coming into bloom for the first time. One family who made the donation of a tree (which included the planting of the young sappling) were the focus of these few minutes. Their daughter, Masako, had died very young - she was a university student in the very bloom of life. One can only imagine (and all parents know this) what pain this couple must have gone through.

And so they went to Kiyomizudera to see their daughter's tree. A monk guided them into the forest and up a narrow pathway to Masako's slender tribute. The whole grove was in bloom, pink cherry blossoms in a riotous collection. They stood beside the tree they had planted, Masako's name prominent in calligraphy. The mother brought her lips to the slim trunk and kissed it. You must know, it impossible not to cry at such a moment.

I'm glad of such experiences, which render what is important clear as day. They declutter the soul, leaving us momentarily in a more natural state of being, in sync with what is happening now.