The willow, with its ability to not only survive but thrive, is an inspiration to move with life rather than resist our feelings.
Its branches extending canopies, bending outrageously without snapping, the tree is a metaphorical reminder to keep going and reach higher no matter the conditions.
There is something majestic about the willow’s presence, isn’t there? Its character and gesture, its silhouettes of shapes where the light cuts through, where the breeze caresses just so.
I am a willow of the wilderness/ Loving the wind that bent me. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
Perhaps for this reason the willow plays an important role in folklore, as in Julianna Horatia Ewing’s The Willow Man.
There once was a Willow, and he was very old; And all his leaves fell off from him, and left him in the cold; But ere the rude winter could buffet him with snow; There grew upon his hoary head a crop of mistletoe. All wrinkled and furrowed was this old Willow’s skin, His taper finger trembled, and his arms were very thin; Two round eyes and hollow, that stared but did not see; And sprawling feet that never walked, had this most ancient tree. ~ Julianna Horatia Ewing
The stiffest tree is most easily cracked, while the willow survives bending with the wind. ~ Bruce Lee
Image: the goddesstree slperrin.com