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Auntie Willow

We all have those days where nothing goes right. The days where the bus is late, you miss your connection, and the next one won't accept your fare.  The days where you spill your coffee on your shirt, and everyone goes out of their way to point it out.  The days where you're in sensory overload before clocking in. 

I had one of those recently.

So I did the only thing I could.  I sought the comfort of Auntie Willow.

I love weeping willow trees, always have.  It has always been a comfort to me knowing that several are on the property where I (sort of) work.  And on tough days, I flee to the largest  of the willows. 

Feeling whimsical one day, I dubbed it Auntie Willow...but I did have reason.  Her trunk has a bend in it, at just the right height and angle to lean into.  Her feathery trailing branches wrap around me, shielding me from the insanity I ran from.

Leaning on her trunk, I can look outward, away from the buildings and people and chaos.  I can sink my feet into the ground, re-find that connection with the Earth.

The wind stirs Auntie's trailing branches.  Some touch my cheek, a leafy caress.  With effort, I release the stress that sent me running from my post.  Surrounded by green and bolstered by solid strength, I start to feel better.  Staring toward the far end of the property, I feel  myself relax. 

With my body fitted into the curl of the willow tree's trunk, I relax.  I come back to  myself, remember that none of this really matters. 

This green space, this breathing place are what matter.  The creativity that inspired me to name a tree, this is what matters.  Strength and balance, freely offered by a willow tree.

This is what matters.
Plaid Plaid 31-35, F Sep 17, 2012

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