I Am a Weeping Willow

If I am a weeping willow, and you are an aspen, can we still coincide the way Nature has desired?

I started from a seed, germinated a mere fourteen hours from whence my seedling dropped, by my mother Willow. My mother Willow who was Weeping.

From there, I developed roots and established a sense of security, as if I belonged in this new world, supported by the ground and the dirt and the worms and the heat. I was me, simply put, and I was welcomed.

As my roots strengthened enough to allow for my seedling to expand into a stalk that broke Earth’s surface, I took my first breath and was delighted to feel the heat emanating from the lustrous Sun — a different kind of heat from which I was prior accustomed. I felt the wind blow past me, but not enough to crack my body: I stood tall and firm. The birds hopped around me, until they sought refuge under a tree that comforted them shade. Maybe one day, that would be me. But not today.

My roots kept expanding as they absorbed the nourishment from both rain and Sunshine, all while pushing my stalk further up toward the Sky. I could hardly feel myself growing, for it seemed all too gradual, until I was able to wave hello to my neighbor: an Aspen. We were, it seemed, on this same journey to stretch ourselves high toward the Sky, but we also were on completely different journeys, for my aim was to be a Weeping Willow. And hers? An Aspen. We both started in the ground, manifesting our desires to grow, our longings to be, our prides to show.

As Time kept flowing, I realized this was the only constant in Life. No matter the season or the level of rain or amount of Sun or which birds flew by me, Time continued. And as it did, I began to grow, grow, grow, until my twig arms became branches. And the branches were sturdy enough to house one little nest of eggs, which I cherished deeply.

From my branches sprouted leaves that budded green, and then yellow, and then a gorgeous gold — just like the leaves of my Mama. These leaves at first seemed to wilt, but I welcomed this part of the process, for the airs around me kept flowing and blowing (whistling, even), so I knew in my core I would too. And as they began to wilt further and further down toward the ground, I realized that they weren’t wilting at all; rather, they were falling…

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