Weeping Willow

Story and art by A. Kaunuda

Visiting the willow was my reason for joining my uncle and cousin on their spring/summer fishing trek to the Washington Park Lagoon.

Three blocks from our house was my grandmother’s flower garden where they dug up the worms for bait.

I packed a picnic lunch because they never ever caught any fish.

While they baited the hooks at the water’s edge I climbed into the welcoming embrace of the sturdy weeping willow branch that extend out over the surface of the lagoon. With my back against the trunk and my feet dangling over the branches just inches from the water’s surface, I sang and cloud surfed and danced my whispered dreams.  I skipped across the water with dragonflies, floated on the surface with willow leaves, inhaled spring and exhaled summer into the last autumn sunset.