Willow Thoughts

"The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way.  Some see Nature all ridicule and deformity, and some scarce see Nature at all.  But to the eyes of the man of imagination, Nature is Imagination itself."-  William Blake, 1799, The Letters  

This is the time of year that I start to really miss my willow tree. It is huge and hovers over my house and back yard like a giant sleepy monster. It moans on a windy day and the branches bend low to the ground. A giant something lives high in the hollowed out space between the trunk and an ancient branch. I saw it once in the dusky shadows as it lumbered up the trunk and settled itself in for the night. I haven't seen it come back down. Maybe it lives there still.
The bark is many shades of grey and has deep grooves that shield insect villages. The leaves can be annoying when they drop all over the grass, but the vines they float on dance so gracefully in the wind that I don"t mind all that extra raking. There is a huge hole in the top of this 300 year old tree that came when a freak summer hail storm took away a large branch. It lets in blue or grey sky like a skylight.
A large rope circles its waist like a fisherman's belt and stretches over to a younger maple. Together the trees hold the freshly washed clothes and dry them efficiently in the wind.
I will be back soon to say hello, and then as I prepare myself to say goodbye to it when the house goes on the market this Spring. The willow will be missed more than the house -like the passing of an old friend.