(Photo by Curtis Tasker, 2009)When I was a child, our house was surrounded by Weeping Willow trees. The house was a white Colonial in a lazy, sleepy town. Collectively, the four Weeping Willows consumed our acre backyard.
Amid the Willows were other things...tall grass that we hid in to get out of doing chores...a swing set with swings, glider, and slide...a Twirlie-Bird so four of us eight siblings could have fun at the same time...a sandbox that was actually a rowboat.
Railroad ties angled to form a patio that we laboured over, and lined with flat rocks. One set of rocks we made into a butterfly, plus other shapes as well.
Against the house, off the patio, was a garden filled with Lilacs...both purple and white...their fragrance held in favor all these many years since those whiffs that floated on summer's breeze.
When the wind blew, the Weeping Willows swayed, their pliable limbs bending to the whims of the breeze. I was jealous of the limbs...for they were free! Two of my favorite memories of childhood are of scents: those of Lilacs and Weeping Willow trees.
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