The Willows' Song

There is a place I pass on my way home every day, but, for whatever reason- no place to pull over, I am not the one driving- I have never stopped...until the other day. This place is nothing special in the grand design of nature and yet I find myself preparing to really look every time I approach, and do. I wish I had followed an initial instinct to begin a photographic record- to capture the moods and seasons day by day...ah, well.
I stopped because of floodwaters and snapped one single photo. Being too close, I only managed to capture a tiny section. Allow me to describe it to you. Image a terraced fold between two hills, the kind of place protected from the elements where sheep and goats sometimes graze, shaded in spring and summer by massive willow trees. When the waters come a gurgling stream meanders in the folds to overflow into the gully alongside the road as a lovely little waterfall. In winter it is wild, the trees bare...and so green it defies an artist’s pallet. As I said, nothing special in the grand design, a small nook between hills...and it calls to me.
The act of looking and knowing, however, is what makes it special. Those few sweet moments as I pass by inspire me. Perhaps I’ll stop another day and sit under the willow trees and be one with placid sheep and playful goats. Perhaps it is the call that counts and I’ll keep driving...and round the next bend with a smile.