The Japanese have a term called komorebi (木漏れ日 / こもれび). There’s no English word equivalent for it, but it’s short for sunlight filtering through the leaves and branches of a tree. Or “dappled sunlight”, “god rays”.

Is there a term that describes light dappling through cherry blossoms in bloom in first spring?

None. But it should, because there’s no other beauty as lovely and as poetic. 

It is cherry blossom season now in Kyoto after all. Spring is here for sure, and the first blossoms are sprouting. Imagine whole trees fully crowned in snow white sakura, backlit by pale blue skies, swaying gently to the cool breeze of first spring. It’s hard not to be moved by this image of refined elegance and simplicity.
 

The locals are starting to emerge in throngs on their picnic mats, underneath these lovely trees by the riverside, experiencing beautiful komorebi, having food, laughing, chatting, feeling the aliveness that spring gives, of friendship and community.

All along the Kamo River are lined by sakura trees - it’s said that that’s their favourite habitat, at the transition of land and water. I find that I too gravitate towards such transitions. Cycling alongside the river, the sun dappling through these low clouds of snow-white flowers, cool spring breeze gently pushing me forwards, I felt like I was floating downstream through sakura heaven, with everyone smiling at you as you pass. 

I could cycle on forever, in komorebi.