Willow by the Cleared Bank

I am fortunate enough to live just 15 or so minutes outside Boston, but still be surrounded by nature. Every day, on at least one of our many walks, the puppy and I take to the Charles River Reservation Walkway.



We pick one of the entrances along Pleasant Street, walk to Bridge Street, cross to the other side of the river, continue to Watertown Square, and loop back to exit the same way we entered.

The lookouts along the river are plentiful.

The dam, with its feathered occupants, is spectacular.

But the place that draws us back time and again is the Willow Tree by the cleared bank. We stand and watch the river rush over the Willow's roots. When the river is high with the rains the drooping branches of the Willow dance along its surface. In sun, our Willow provides a shaded respite. It is impossible for us to pass by without stopping.

I do not see sadness, only beauty and strength in the Weeping Willow. My first reaction is to smile. I believe it may have been misnamed.

The Willow is mysterious, resilient, and adaptable. It even grows, though considerably shorter, in the Artic Circle. The Osage Indian Tribe has a parable about the Willow.

Growing up, I spent much of my time in the woods and along the banks of the pond behind my house. As a child, I remember being asked time and time again if I might like to be a Botanist when I "grow up". It seems I am given to a curiosity towards and love and reverence for trees, flowers, and nature in general. This may sound strange, but do you have a favorite tree? If not, do you have a place like the Willow by the Cleared Bank, that moves you?

Silent Cooperation

Walking to class yesterday I came to a crosswalk where one person was waiting to cross. The walk light had not come on when I arrived at the crosswalk but I peered around the bus parked there to see if any cars were coming. The person who had been waiting followed suit and we crossed together. Silent cooperation.

My class ended early yesterday, but a few of us stuck around to continue our discussion about the film we watched. Slowly people filtered out until it was just me, the professor, and one other student. As I silently moved toward the door to leave, both of them followed me out of the classroom, down the stairs, and into the open air where we each went our separate ways. Silent cooperation.

Near the station where I pick up the bus to go home there are two crosswalks mere feet from each other at a very large three way intersection. Big groups of people were waiting at both of them when I arrived. The people at the other intersection began crossing and the group I was standing in followed suit. Silent cooperation.

Human nature is fascinating.