Weeping Willows

Louise Ryan

It was bright, cold with a blanket of blue sky. The usual sounds of children’s laughter couldn’t even be heard in the distance. There was strangely no sound. No sound of ducks splashing and quacking around in the little, picturesque pond. No sound of tweeting birds or cawing crows. No sound of engines passing by disguised as cars, buses, trucks or motorbikes, even. Silence pierced and echoed through her veins. Leah took this same walk in the park at precisely 4pm most days. Had she drifted off the beaten track?

Trees surrounding her, literally surrounding her, brown, drooping willow trees and lots of them. Were they moving? Was this real? Was she trapped in some peculiar dream? This was weird… very weird.

‘Hellllloooo Leaaaaahhhhh’ swaying backwards and forwards trees were dancing around her. If trees were to come to life, she would have preferred them to be cherry trees or something, not the weeping willows, the bare weeping willows. They freaked her out, always hanging around horror movies in the background, not that she watched horrors any more…

It spoke again… enveloping Leah in its branches. Its outstretched arms smothered her in the tree; the scent of the willow almost grounded her. ‘Remember who you are Leah’ it barked loudly.

Although she thought she could almost hear her heartbeat, she didn’t feel scared. She felt at one with the tree. Her energy heightened and she started to sway, sway like the tree, sway like, not your average tree, but sway like a weeping willow tree, she moved to and fro like the willow. Leah had always felt failed by others in her life. Other humans. But here in the forest she could be herself. No judgments, no expectations… just tranquillity. It was just Leah and nature. A place she had longed to be for what seemed like forever.

Leah discovered a vital secret today. She knew something so important could not be forgotten. She knew she was a fairy, a fairy of forgotten land in her past life.

She had once been a tree in her very first life. This life had forgotten her. She had mighty powers, powers that she never imagined she’d have as she lived in this life as Leah, just an ordinary girl, with an ordinary name. Leah… she pondered her name deep in thought. Her name meant delicate and weary. Delicate and weary just like a willow tree.

She reclaimed her place in this universe and discovered this was her place. Her place of rest. She was tired, so tired. She felt everything the tree felt and she wept. She stood still and embraced the tree, her tree, and she became it again. She was in her final resting place, close to her roots. She was deep in peace.

She breathed peace and urged for sleep. A sleep her weary self had anticipated for a long period of time. She didn’t know how long she’d be in this sleep but she knew this is where she belonged. The wind blew strong as she closed her eyes for the very last time. The next great whoosh cast her seeds into the air. She could hear the wind whisper her name. ‘Sleep in peace Leah… Sleep in peace.’

• Louise Ryan is a member of Inklings Writing Group, who meet on Tuesdays at 11am in the Annebrook House Hotel. Mullingar.