|a summer day|
Walking along a path on a summer afternoon with some of my favorite people in the world, we came upon this pond. I was immediately taken by it. I said out loud, this is our Giverny. I saw the paint strokes so clearly and I felt that if brush were in hand, I could paint it. I could channel Monet.
On this day, I woke and read the newspaper as usual. And yes, I always read my horoscope on the funny page. It's ironic that they are on the comic page, yes?! Anyway, my horoscope read that I would meet my benefactor. Benefactor? Well goodness, what could that mean? It was an interesting thing to mull over as I walked through nature with some of my favorite people ... as we looked upon the Lilly pond, I told my nephew about the reading ... and he said, "Maybe nature is your benefactor." How smart is he ... and only 13. I looked around at the beauty that surrounded us, and without sounding too corny, I saw the gift. The stars were not wrong ... I was given a lovely gift.
And so I'm here, with my benefactor ...
I love the Weeping Willow tree. On the block where I grew up, a few doors down, lived a Weeping Willow. As a child, it seemed very exotic ... very spooky. The house that it shaded was different than the others on the block. It was a little cottage that didn't have one 2 x 4 of suburban built into it. And if my memory serves, it was timber-framed. So unusual. The couple who lived in it were very old ... well, to a young girl they seemed very old. Instead of the typical steel webbed fence that divided property, they had a picket fence separating them from the neighbors, and halfway down the property was a little gate. That's awfully neighborly, don't you think. The girls who had the gate and access to the yard with the Weeping Willow were friends of mine. Once I got my knee stuck in the railing of their porch ... yeah, don't know what I was thinking! They were of no help getting my knee unstuck, but the old man who lived in the cottage saw what what was happening, came through the little gate, and helped me out of my predicament. Of course I was afraid of him! But he did have kindly eyes, and he did save my knee ... yes, every time I see a Weeping Willow, I think of him and his kindness. I want, one day, to have a cottage of my own ... it does not have to be timber framed, but I do think that it should have a Weeping Willow.
|on the same summer day|
But what is it about the Weeping Willow? It's somberness, the idea that the the branches droop down in a sweeping sadness over the ground it umbrellas is ... poetic. I read on a tree site that it is often planted in areas of unwanted pools of water as it has tremendous absorption properties. Isn't that something to consider ... the tree weeps, and it can absorb its own tears. Even more remarkable is that its' sap was used as the first analgesic. It makes sense that it, like aspirin, is something that has incredible effects, yet it is ... a mystery of sorts. Maybe that's why in Greece it was a common practice to place a branch (often associated with snakes) in the bed of a fertile woman with the belief that it would entice the magical serpents to impregnate her. Native Americans also place the branch in the bed of newly married couples to increase their reproductiveness. Interesting. So many women struggle with fertility and all they've needed to have been doing is entice the magical serpent with the branch of a willow!
|the weep in reflection (on the right)|
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