Katherine Nicolai

And I liked the way both of those words felt in my mouth.

That's how long they have been, early to mark the spring and drape over water.

That's how long they have been, early to mark the spring and drape over water.

That's how long they have been, early to mark the spring and drape over water.

I closed my eyes and drew deep breaths through my nose. I imagined pulling a bit of whatever was in the tree, whatever made it who and what it was, into me. Its strength and adaptability, its protective attitude and hopeful early bloom,

I closed my eyes and drew deep breaths through my nose. I imagined pulling a bit of whatever was in the tree, whatever made it who and what it was, into me. Its strength and adaptability, its protective attitude and hopeful early bloom,

I closed my eyes and drew deep breaths through my nose. I imagined pulling a bit of whatever was in the tree, whatever made it who and what it was, into me. Its strength and adaptability, its protective attitude and hopeful early bloom,

Patiently, I kept my hand on the tree and my breath circling. And soon my highways were clear. my back roads wide open. I opened my eyes and let my palm fall away from the bark, turned and leaned my back against it. I was calmed, quieted, nothing to search for or achieve. I just was, as the tree and the water were. The willow tree.

Patiently, I kept my hand on the tree and my breath circling. And soon my highways were clear. my back roads wide open. I opened my eyes and let my palm fall away from the bark, turned and leaned my back against it. I was calmed, quieted, nothing to search for or achieve. I just was, as the tree and the water were. The willow tree.

Patiently, I kept my hand on the tree and my breath circling. And soon my highways were clear. my back roads wide open. I opened my eyes and let my palm fall away from the bark, turned and leaned my back against it. I was calmed, quieted, nothing to search for or achieve. I just was, as the tree and the water were. The willow tree.

It isn't just that the willow is the first tree each spring to sprout leaves. Though certainly that is a glimmer I go looking for each year. To see the light yellow haze like a flaxen fog hovering in its branches. And it isn't just the way its long, draping limbs dip leaves into the lake, like a beaded, viridescent curtain that I can slide through on my kayak, as if passing into a magic world.

It isn't just that the willow is the first tree each spring to sprout leaves. Though certainly that is a glimmer I go looking for each year. To see the light yellow haze like a flaxen fog hovering in its branches. And it isn't just the way its long, draping limbs dip leaves into the lake, like a beaded, viridescent curtain that I can slide through on my kayak, as if passing into a magic world.

It isn't just that the willow is the first tree each spring to sprout leaves. Though certainly that is a glimmer I go looking for each year. To see the light yellow haze like a flaxen fog hovering in its branches. And it isn't just the way its long, draping limbs dip leaves into the lake, like a beaded, viridescent curtain that I can slide through on my kayak, as if passing into a magic world.

though those things are already a lot for a tree to gift the world. For me, it is the way a willow seems to curl around you. There is something protective in its architecture. It's a place to shelter in the rain. To cool off on a sunny day. To hide away and read. Or just be with something bigger than you. To feel small and safe under its umbrella.

though those things are already a lot for a tree to gift the world. For me, it is the way a willow seems to curl around you. There is something protective in its architecture. It's a place to shelter in the rain. To cool off on a sunny day. To hide away and read. Or just be with something bigger than you. To feel small and safe under its umbrella.

though those things are already a lot for a tree to gift the world. For me, it is the way a willow seems to curl around you. There is something protective in its architecture. It's a place to shelter in the rain. To cool off on a sunny day. To hide away and read. Or just be with something bigger than you. To feel small and safe under its umbrella.

I tracked across the broad open land on my way to the willow tree. The ground was springy and damp, the grass just beginning to show green again, and I'd worn my tall boots in case of any flooded spots. The snow had been gone for just a week or two, but the sun had been shining so brightly each day that it felt like we were riding downhill toward summer.

I tracked across the broad open land on my way to the willow tree. The ground was springy and damp, the grass just beginning to show green again, and I'd worn my tall boots in case of any flooded spots. The snow had been gone for just a week or two, but the sun had been shining so brightly each day that it felt like we were riding downhill toward summer.

I tracked across the broad open land on my way to the willow tree. The ground was springy and damp, the grass just beginning to show green again, and I'd worn my tall boots in case of any flooded spots. The snow had been gone for just a week or two, but the sun had been shining so brightly each day that it felt like we were riding downhill toward summer.

in just my jeans and a sweater, I felt warmed through as I trod over the bare ground. Even this far off, I could smell the lake, the fresh scent of water, clear and mineral, just released from the ice, was in every breath I took. The steady plod of my feet and rising color in my cheeks made me feel like I was syncing up with the natural world around me.