A Medium original
I know the beauty of Willows. It’s my daughters name.
My daughter thinks I named her after the tree. The ones with a hunch in their postures, branches that contoured into witch like hands, sprouting needle like leaves that billow in the wind. They look soft but I’ll tell you, they’re not soft. They itch terribly, in fact. But the aesthetics of a Willow tree never cease to amaze me.