I found this inspiring scene on a recent hike and birding expedition around a local lake. The weeping willow tree’s tender leaves had recently emerged, which stopped me in my tracks.
I loved how the lowest limb arched over the dirt trail, beckoning hikers on no matter which direction they walked. If the young woman in the distance noticed the tree’s artful beauty, she didn’t say anything and kept walking.
I am a writer, author, photographer, birder, walker, hiker, husband, father, grandfather, brother, Anabaptist, and community activist. My life is crammed with all things people and nature and wonder. My late father gave me this penchant for giving and getting the most out of life, my late mother the courtesy, kindness, and creativity to see the joy in life. They both taught me to cherish the people I am with. I try and fail and try again.
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3 thoughts on “Under the Weeping Willow Tree”
Is it just me, or are the leaves of the willows an especially bright green this year?
Thanks, as always, for bringing beauty to our attention!
Audrey, I believe the older we get, the better we see what is actually there. Perhaps we never noticed how green and frilly those emerging willow leaves were, but we do now!
I’ve loved willow trees since my parents bought a small “farm” in the country where we had a small creek gurgling through our front yard with two huge willows keeping guard over the yard/creek/home. The move was traumatic to me, leaving all that was familiar, but when I heard/saw that little creek, those graceful-yet-protective willows, I knew I was HOME! Thanks for stirring those memories, Bruce!
Roadkill Crossing 
Is it just me, or are the leaves of the willows an especially bright green this year?
Thanks, as always, for bringing beauty to our attention!
Audrey Metz
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Audrey, I believe the older we get, the better we see what is actually there. Perhaps we never noticed how green and frilly those emerging willow leaves were, but we do now!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ve loved willow trees since my parents bought a small “farm” in the country where we had a small creek gurgling through our front yard with two huge willows keeping guard over the yard/creek/home. The move was traumatic to me, leaving all that was familiar, but when I heard/saw that little creek, those graceful-yet-protective willows, I knew I was HOME! Thanks for stirring those memories, Bruce!
LikeLiked by 1 person