The Willow Tree

A Story by paradoxx

not a story but I dont know what to call it

If I was ever asked where I believe I belong I guess my answer would be rather generic.

I would say that I belong with nature, content with where I am, and pleased to be a part of all of it. I would want the reassurance that I belong in the order of life, I would like to know where my place is and that this is where I'm going to stay.

I guess the problem with saying where you belong is that your mind wants you to be in a fictional and perfect place. I guess that deep down if you twist and dodge through the things that you want to believe, you realise that a world with humans isn't a very nice place... The real place in this world that you belong in has a lot of imperfections, loose, ragged and torn ends.

Since the place I want to believe I belong simply doest exist I would rather answer an altered version of the question. I would like to say where I want to be.

The place that I want to be is out of ear shot of humans and on a river. I don't care what country it's in or what its by, I want to find my river with a ancient willow tree. You know, one of the ones that are hundreds of years old and just look like they are wiser and more travelled than humans could ever be, in spite of the fact that they have never left the spot that they are currently in.

As I approach the ancient tree, bent with age, all the unnecessary thoughts in my mind instantly clear. I do not feel like this is my tree or my special spot rather that the tree has owned me my whole life and I feel like this is going to be the best point in my life. I don't feel worried that life will never be better than this but pleased and contented with the fact that I was able to arrive at this point at all.

The tree wills me onwards and as I pass through the hanging branches I spread my arms. As if under a spell I close my eyes and relish the sensation of the leaves lapping at my face. It feels almost like insects. Not the awful hair raising bugs like spiders or cockroaches but more like the soft tingle of butterflies. As I pass through the cloak of leaves I feel oddly refreshed and clean, almost as if the soft leaves as brushed me down, un-clogging all the nooks and crannies filled with dirt and wrongdoing. I know it sounds kind of stupid and very religious but I want to feel like I have been given a second chance and a re-birth.

Anyway once I have passed through the gateway, portal even, I look out around and see something completely different to the harsh reality behind me.

I look into the sparkling brown-tinged water and instantly I become mesmerised. I quickly look to my right and spot a break in the gnarled uneven roots of the willow and set my self down into it. While sitting in my seat of roots I am comforted by the fact of being surround by pure nature and watch the river. The silence of the spot is only disturbed by the quiet sloshing of the river hitting the banks and being redirected on its way, and as water passes by so does time and I groggily wonder where the river comes from and where has it been? With that thought lingering in my mind my eye lids become heavy as steel and I drift of into a pleasant world of sleep nestled up in the roots of the great tree.

I want to be a part of the trees past, and want to find my place where all my worries disappear and my doubts vanish.

In my life i wish to find this place of solitude and natural, peaceful silence. This is where I want to be.