# Willow's Quiet Strength

## Swaying in the Storm

A willow tree stands by the riverbank, its long branches trailing in the water. When fierce winds blow, it doesn't fight back like an oak might, cracking under pressure. Instead, it bends, slender limbs whipping and weaving, touching the ground before rising again. I've watched this on quiet evenings, feeling a calm settle in. The willow doesn't resist the storm; it moves with it, emerging whole when the gusts fade.

## Roots That Hold Steady

What allows this dance? Deep roots, woven into the earth and nourished by steady waters below. They're hidden, unflashy, but essential. The willow draws quiet strength from what lies beneath the surface—patient, persistent. It reminds me of those everyday anchors in our lives: a familiar walk, a shared meal, small habits that keep us grounded amid change.

## Embracing the Bend

Life pulls us in every direction—unexpected losses, shifting plans, relentless demands. Like the willow, we can learn to flex rather than fracture. It's not about being unbreakable, but about yielding wisely, finding grace in motion. In bending, we touch new places, grow taller over time.

This isn't a grand philosophy, just a tree's simple way of enduring.

*On February 3, 2026, may we all bend a little more freely.*