Thoughts Provoked by Willow Trees

I have never been much of a writer. I've always done well on papers, but it has never been a real passion of mine. My writing only extends beyond school in journals full of venting often negative thoughts. However, I recently went to the Arboretum and was inspired to write while sitting under a willow tree. It was a absolutely beautiful Autumn day, 60 degrees with clear bright blue skies. A light breeze urged me to walk to the Arboretum, despite never have been there or having a smart phone to give me directions. Nevertheless, I found my way. I was so engrossed and taken back by the beauty around me that I was filled with this overwhelming urge to write aimlessly. So I did. I decided to make this blog because I wanted a place to share what I wrote, in hopes that my writing can somehow convey the incredible experience I had. It definitely does not do it justice, but I tried. 

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I am sitting beside a beautiful pond, surrounded by leaves and tall trees. I found a large willow tree to sit against while eating an apple and reading my book. The air is sweet, filling every breath I take with the calming and beautiful aroma of leaves. It is the same smell that kicks up when I walk through my Grandma's yard in the Fall. For as long as I can remember, I have never felt so at peace. Everything in my body and mind feel completely and utterly still. The wind seems to blow through the branches in slow motion, giving the illusion that the world has stopped and it is only me in this forest. It is so glorious and beautiful that I feel like I should cry from pure joy, yet I am too calm and happy to even do so much as that. 

I wander around, finding new and strikingly beautiful scenes everywhere I turn. I feel as though I want to experience reading under every tree I find. I do not want Fall to end, I want to spend every day exploring this beautiful world I have discovered. These trees have a way of making you feel special. They make you feel as though you've found your own private world, never touched or corrupted by other hands. It feels like a special secret shared between just you and the trees. 

When I first sat down, I had this overwhelming desire for someone to be a witness to the beauty with me. However, no one I know came to mind as the right person to share this with. This feels too intimate to share with friends or family. No, this is too special, too personal. It needs to be the right person, someone who would understand the way I feel and appreciate the trees with me. Someone who I can trust to share the trees and I's secret.