Weeping willows

Shaggy giants with delicate fronds of leaves hanging down and blowing in the cold wind. I’ve sat underneath a willow tree, back against its trunk, hidden behind the curtain of leaves. I was only young and it was like sitting in a fairytale. I remember the sunlight sparkling and dancing through the lace like leaves.

Dry ground, roots, scuffed by ducks and geese. Memories of the 1960’s. So long ago, but we’ll remembered.

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